The Dark Side of Free Education

There’s been a lot of buzz in the last week about New York State’s new promise to offer free tuition at its state (State University of New York-SUNY) and New York City (City University of New York-CUNY) systems, most of it excited and positive. Bernie Sanders got on board. Everyone in my Facebook feed, including most of the educators I know, is excited. I’ve seen the same reaction to Stanford’s decision, and the plans elsewhere for free community college as well.

Frankly, I hate it.

Don’t get me wrong: I think tuition for all students should be free (though that’s not exactly how this plan works). Education is not a privilege, it’s a right, and an investment in the future good of any civilization or society. It’s criminal that we load students down with debt just to get something that’s required for them to even begin to “get ahead” in life (and many of them still can’t do that because of the structure of our economy). I applaud any school that can make this happen—except if they do it on the backs of adjuncts. Here’s what I mean, from Inside Higher Ed‘s summary of the new annual salary survey:

Released today, AAUP’s annual survey finds that … the average total pay for part-time faculty members at a single institution was $20,508. Average pay for part-time faculty members teaching on a per-section basis only (excluding professors teaching part-time during phased retirement, for example) was $7,066, with serious limitations to the data…. Dunietz, of AAUP, emphasized that the statistic is “not meant to indicate an average pay per course,” but rather the average salaries of those part-time faculty that are paid on a per-course basis. “Some of these faculty may teach two or three courses, and the data that we have doesn’t differentiate between cost per course,” he added.

The “part-time” designation is also highly misleading. Many of those part-time professors are part-time at several institutions, due to course caps that keep them from teaching a full load at any one school, so no one gets stuck with their insurance and benefits costs. They are, in fact, often teaching anywhere from 5 to 12 classes, in person and online. Meanwhile, according to the same AAUP survey, college presidents are now making 3.5 to 4 times as much as full professors at research institutions.

Regarding CUNY and SUNY “salaries,” Lynne Turner, of the CUNY Adjunct Project, notes,

The starting compensation for CUNY adjuncts is a meager $3200 per 3-credit course, whereas at both Rutgers in N[ew] J[ersey] and the University of Connecticut systems equivalent adjunct pay per course hovers at around $5000 to start—and they are organizing for more. The CUNY Adjunct Project where I am a coordinator and many others are pressing for a real campaign for a livable compensation of $7000 per course—but it won’t happen unless we stop being complicit with the silence rendering invisible CUNY’s poverty level adjunct compensation.

At CUNY and SUNY, adjuncts teach approximately 60% of the courses. This means that a majority proportion of faculty is making about $20K/year, cobbling together a career from the scraps dropped from the high table of the CUNY chancellor and his $18K/month apartment or the SUNY chancellor’s $200K pay raise. NFM and others have written over and over again about how “Adjunct working conditions are our students’ learning conditions.” Because of lack of institutional and financial support, contingent faculty are less able to take risks in either the classroom or their own research, try innovative new teaching strategies, or mentor students. Despite their lack of support and job protection, adjunct faculty still manage to do extraordinary work, sacrificing unpaid labor for both their discipline and their students and winning both teaching and research awards. As one commenter on the compensation story said,

At my C[ommunity] C[ollege], two adjuncts won “part-time teacher of the year” and had published three books and five journal articles between them. The next semester they both lost their classes due “bumping” by a new TT faculty member. Adjuncts have zero academic freedom, yet these two managed to be of great benefit to the students, students who pointlessly protested the non-rehires to our governing board. There is NO other profession in which there is almost zero correlation between performance and compensation.

So what are CUNY and SUNY students getting for free? Overworked, underpaid, exploited adjuncts with no job security or academic freedom, mostly, especially in those crucial core courses of their first two years. This is not a good deal for anyone.

But I’m most disturbed by the number of educators, both full time and adjunct, who are cheering it on. Why is this okay? Sure, it sounds, on the surface, like a great deal for students, but if you’re an adjunct it’s at your own expense. Why are you not asking when we’re going to start supporting and paying the workers who do the actual educating living wages, as part and parcel of helping our students succeed? When one group is exploited to advantage another, there’s nothing good about that, nothing fair, nothing right, and nothing sustainable. And if you approve of it, you’re part of the problem.

Stop cheering. Get up and demand better for all of us, students and faculty. Chop from the top, as my friend Lydia says, if that’s what it takes to make it happen.

–Lee Kottner

Chop from the Top

by Lydia Field Snow

Recently I’ve been talking to a fellow adjunct organizer, Andy Davis in California, who teaches at Cal Poly Pomona in the Interdisciplinary General Education program. He and I are involved in collaborating with a group of artist activists designing projects that capitalize on the power of the arts to change minds and hearts for Campus Equity Week 2017. Its theme captures our need to both conceal and reveal our complex identities as members of the precarious academic workforce: mAsk4campusEquity.

Andy and I are heading up the Historical Re-enactment and Other Performance/Performing Arts and we have been have been brainstorming 2-3 hours a week about the connection that Halloween in 2017 will also be the 500th anniversary of Martin Luther’s posting his revolutionary 95 Theses on the door of Wittenberg Cathedral. It was a campus protest because Luther was teaching at the University of Wittenberg as an “ordinary lecturer” and posting his theses on the door of the cathedral was a standard method of engaging in a scholarly debate. As Andy has so eloquently stated, “There are distinct parallels between the corruptions that were taking place in Luther’s time and what is taking place today. Both systems supported an increasingly remote administrative elite through the exploitation of true believers.”

Well, last week I was particularly down when he called. Not only did my mother in law pass away at 93 after a long struggle that involved my husband bearing the weight of all of her financial and healthcare decisions from long distance, we also as a family lost our dear beagle after 13 years. The previous week I deduced, after 6 years of consistent summer work, that I was not going to be invited back to my summer job as camp counselor at Northwestern University’s Center for Talent Development, this on top of having 20% of my remaining adjunct salary cut through the end of the semester through Northeastern Illinois University’s “Furlough Plan.”

Then I was emailed by my union that there was going to be a press conference where the students were going to talk about their student jobs being cut over the break and how Governor Rauner’s budget fiasco was harming Northeastern Illinois University’s students because of the mandatory furlough of 1,100 faculty and staff. They implored as many faculty to show up as possible. At first I was furious  at the college’s administration. Even in my sad state, it doesn’t take a whole lot of intellect to see that the ones being hurt by the pay cut are the faculty and staff. Let’s stop calling it a furlough because, unlike last year when the union was able to bargain that we actually take those furlough days, the administration made the unilateral choice to shut down over Spring Break. So what difference does that make if you’re still expected to teach at the same time for the same number of students? Adding insult to injury, the union thinks the press is more concerned about the students losing their jobs for a week and being hired back again than they are about part-time faculty who won’t be able to feed their families, or about staff who won’t be able to afford to pay their rent, heat, and electricity bills?

Anyway, Andy and I talked and he helped me make sense out of it. “Well of course that’s crazy. What can you do that will make adjuncts more visible?” I suggested, “How about make a sign that says Chop from the Top?” And he said, “Chop from the top, don’t kill the tree!” So in my grief-stricken state I went to Office Depot and bought a big piece of poster board and some enormous sharpies. I am just about the least artistically inclined person visually, but that night I did my best to create my sign, changing it to “Chop from the top, not from the Tree,”—(I think upside down and I’m not even sure it makes sense, but artists have that prerogative.)—I found photos of the Tree of Life, which was my mother-in-law’s favorite sculpture, on the internet; she had one in the living room that I often stared at over dinner, and I brought it in under my arm the next morning before the demonstration, hiding it behind my cabinet in my shared office space.

When I got to the demonstration, there were few people there and it was cold, and I had forgotten my gloves. I held up my sign on the steps of the Classroom Building and several students came up to me and smiled, “Oh I love that sign! Thanks so much for coming.” My fellow union members looked away in shock and horror when they saw me and my sign and I just kept thinking, Andy thinks it’s ok; I am just going to hang out here with my sign. Photographers came up to me later and photographed me. I held it up for over an hour despite a frozen shoulder injury I’ve been coping with due to grading papers for 2 years now. I have no idea how I did it.

And then the students started speaking. I can’t tell you how moving it was to hear the Northeastern students speaking about what our university means to them. And they didn’t stop with just the ability to go to college and be the first one in their family to graduate, or the undocumented immigrants that bravely graduate and have found work here in Chicago, but also talked about the other challenges they face. Working and going to school and taking care of sick family members, not having transportation and getting to work or school late. The mental health issues they face dealing with all of this stress. One young man bravely said, “I am here to tell you I suffer from depression, and yes, I am going to graduate and it’s important to talk about mental illness. Governor Rauner is not only hurting public higher education but social services for the mentally ill. We are fighting for our right to not only get educated, but to live, to be in community and support one another. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the social worker that supported me and convinced me to apply to college.”

Soon I was standing there with my enormous sign and tears were streaming down my face. These are my students and this is why I am here after 11 years as an adjunct. It was so powerful to hear the strength in their voices, the tremendous hope they have for the future. It was like I was staring into the face of love and yet standing outside it at the same time. Of course Andy and I had talked about the definition of the word adjunct the day before: “a thing added to something else as a supplementary rather than an essential part.” Everyone else was hugging each other, the union members were passing out fliers that only spoke about Rauner and the budget impasse, not about the impending 20% pay cut for their members. But there was Andy’s voice in my ear, Luther wanted to debate the administration. He didn’t give up. We need to be heard. And in the end I learned something that day. I learned that the students’ voices are more powerful. They are more powerful because they are our future. But it’s important to talk truthfully about things too. Not every move has to be about publicity or gaining the public’s approval, or getting attention on Twitter. It’s important to be visible as adjuncts and to not let them bury us under the rug as “inconsequential.” We are the face of higher education. We are the reason these beautiful students are graduating because we teach most of the classes and we are the ones who are facing so many similar battles economically and psychologically. When we finally do combine forces we will be unstoppable.

 

 

 

 

 

The Rules of Adjunctification – or What I learned I had in common with Oliver Twist – Musings & Mutterings

“Sessionals” and Canada and the UK share our problems too:

 

This post has been a long time in the making.  A very long time — some 15 years, to be precise.  I started “adjuncting” while still in graduate school and have worked, steadily, at 14 differe…

Source: The Rules of Adjunctification – or What I learned I had in common with Oliver Twist – Musings & Mutterings

Ganging up on Adjuncts, Again

So The Atlantic, via a reporter from The Hechinger Report, has decided that “remedial” students “are often faced with the least-qualified instructors.” This is a slam against not only adjuncts, but tenured and tenure-track faculty who teach developmental courses, and as the following letter sent to the editor at The Atlantic outlines, we adjuncts beg to differ:studens first, faculty last

Dear Atlantic Editors and Meredith Kolodner,

We are writing in response to the truly egregious article on “remedial” education in colleges, “Why Remedial College Classes Need Better Teachers.” First of all, you left out a crucial word in the title. It should have been called “Why Remedial College Classes Need Better Supported Teachers.” To say anything else lays the blame at the wrong feet. The corporatization of higher education and the corporate “deformation” of K-12 education have put students in the position of needing much more preparation for college work than ever before and crippled both secondary and post-secondary educators in providing it.

But your claim that students who need the most help are often “faced with the least qualified instructors” is utter bollocks. While it may be true that some community colleges do not demand more than a bachelor’s degree to teach in that subject, that is usually predicated on the teacher being a graduate student in that field. And at a university or four-year college, one must have an advanced degree and teaching experience, unless one is a Teaching Assistant. Even then, TA’s are chosen and supervised carefully, as are new teachers everywhere. But the vast majority of us already have both advanced degrees and teaching experience. There’s nothing “least qualified” about us or our colleagues. Perhaps if Ms. Kolodner had spoken to more of us who are in the trenches, instead of the program directors of training centers, that would have been more evident.

Developmental courses are by far the hardest to teach well, and the fact that faculty who get such weak support are able to do even as well as we do is nearly miraculous. Although blaming teachers for institutional and cultural shortcomings is a popular sport these days, especially in this case, the argument is utterly backwards. If anything, most of us work those minor miracles with next to no support: no offices, no time or place to meet privately with students outside of class, no access to copy machines or computers, no professional development, and very often a syllabus that’s prepackaged and handed down a few days before class, or—worse—no syllabus or books designated at all as we walk into class after our last-minute hiring. Plus, as the article points out, our instructional time is stretched between multiple institutions. To avoid ACA regulations, many colleges deny adjunct faculty the number of classes we need to earn a living wage, so we have no true “home” institution that offers support to us so we can, in turn, support our students.

Worse, adjuncts often are assigned developmental courses because these courses are undesirable to the full-time faculty due to the time commitment required and the high failure rates, which lower their year-end teaching evaluation numbers, as they do for adjuncts (which, in turn allows people like you to assume we are poor teachers). So you have enthusiastic and dedicated adjuncts ready to teach for the first time, wondering what they are doing “wrong” when their students are at the same failure rate as everyone else’s. However, in this case, there is rarely a seasoned, tenured faculty member willing to mentor new adjuncts or glean any information about the classroom experience from them. Perhaps the phrase “this is a tough class to teach” may have been spoken before the semester began. Maybe the adjuncts teach one more semester and quit, or maybe the adjuncts persevere. Either way, there is precious little communication between the people teaching the class and the people choosing the text and creating the curriculum.

Who is responsible for this scenario? Not the adjuncts. But this scenario sums up what is wrong with higher education. There are myriad studies about the short- and long-term costs of employee turnover, yet, here in a sector where success is tied to the future of our society, these costs are wholly ignored because another adjunct, another body with an advanced degree, can easily be found to keep the machine going. This is not in step with the goal of educating. This is in step with the goal of fleecing. The student who is in one of these classes will take it, on average, three times. Either the student will pay for the class three times or maybe financial aid will pay for the class three times. The institution will reap the benefits of being paid three times, probably while having raised tuition and given the administration a hefty raise (while paying the teacher only what one student’s tuition for that course would be), all the while being able to mediate the outcome and choosing not to do so.

The poor state of developmental education exists because someone with administrative power chose not to follow faculty or division recommendations. Instead of providing the best supported teachers for struggling incoming students, we have administration treating students merely as “customers” who will fail and leave their money behind, or repeat courses over and over to leave even more tuition dollars behind (cf. the recent departure of Simon Newman from Mount St. Mary’s). If there is a lack or erosion of standards, it is due to the intrusion of non-teaching administrators into academic, curricular, and pedagogical matters.

Student success is very easily addressed by the following:

1) supported instruction
2) fully funded and staffed instructional services
3) recurrent skill building (versus purely remedial)
4) universal design (e.g., writing across the curriculum)
5) interdisciplinary team-taught courses
6) getting the testing, placement and advising process in order so students are correctly placed. In mathematics especially this is a recurring problem very damaging to students.
7) Fully involving the adjuncts who are doing all this teaching in curriculum updates and design instead of handing them a textbook two hours before class begins and expecting a miracle.
8) Increasing the percentage of full-time professors and distributing classes fairly across all faculty.
9) Ensuring that the professors teaching the most vulnerable students are not themselves vulnerable.

Notably, the solution offered in this article is further dubious, corporate-sponsored training—the same “solution” crippling K-12. Until the corporatization of education at all levels is halted and funding increased across the board for educators, providing them with stable jobs and livable wages, students will continue to get less than they should from all but the most elite institutions. And when their teachers have little support and are often earning what students can make by sticking with their fast-food jobs, to pretend that economic situations will be improved through education is disingenuous.  Teacher and professor working conditions are student learning conditions.

Sincerely,

Lee Kottner, M.A.
Adjunct Professor, English, New Jersey City University
AFT Local 1839 Executive Committee Member
New Faculty Majority Board Member

Rebecca G. Agee, M.A.
Adjunct Professor of English
Ivy Tech Community College

Jjenna Hupp Andrews, MFA, Ph.D.
Lecturer II, Art Appreciation & Studio Art – University of Michigan – Flint
Adjunct, Art History & Studio Art – Delta College

Sabrina Alcorn Baron, PhD
Assistant Research Professor of History, Professional Track
University of Maryland

Robert Craig Baum, Ph.D.
Founder and Master Teacher, Wisdom1096
Faculty Fellow, European Graduate School
Adjunct Assistant Professor, Fordham University and St. John’s University

Brianne Bolin, M.A.
Cofounder & Managing Director, PrecariCorps
Adjunct Faculty, Columbia College Chicago, 2005-2016

Shannon LC Cate PhD
Adjunct Instructor, Media and Cinema Studies
University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign

City Colleges Contingent Labor Organizing Committee
City Colleges of Chicago’s Adjunct Labor Union

Alyssa Colton, PhD English

Lisa Coniglio PhD
Adjunct Biology Instructor

Disposable Adjunct
Adjunct World Comics

Nora Femenia, PhD.,
Florida International University’s Labor Center
Adjunct since 2002, teaching Conflict Resolution Methods
Fulbright Expert in Conflict Resolution

Joseph Fruscione, Ph.D.
Freelance Editor
Cofounder & Communications Director, PrecariCorps
Adjunct Professor, 1999-2014

MG Gainer, PhD
Assistant Professor, non-permanent
Writing Specialist
Lock Haven University of PA

Cristián Gómez Olivares
Assistant Professor
Case Western Reserve University

Jane Harty
Sr. Lecturer
Pacific Lutheran Universit

John R. Hoskins
Adjunct English Professor
San Diego Mesa College
AFT local 1931
AdjunctCrisis.com

Laura PJ Larsen
Parent of an English/Education major, Portland State University
Payer of the college loans and expecting excellent, supported instructors for the cost

Aimee Loiselle
BA, Dartmouth College 1992
MA, University of Vermont 1998
PhD Candidate, University of Connecticut expected 2017
20 years of teaching experience and positive student evaluations
Adjunct Professor of History at Holyoke Community College

Maria Maisto, President and Executive Director
New Faculty Majority & New Faculty Majority Foundation

Michael Gerhard Martin, MFA
Babson College First Year Rhetoric Program
Award-Winning Author of Easiest If I Had A Gun
Full-time part-time since Fall 1998

Karen Lentz Madison, Ph.D.
Adjunct Faculty, English, University of Arkansas, Fayetteville
New Faculty Majority Board Member
Committee for Contingent Labor in the Profession (MLA’s CCLIP), Past Chair
College English Association, Past President

Robin Meade, M.B.A., PMP, CMP
Adjunct Professor of Business, Triton College
AAUP Committee A
Past President of the Moraine Valley Adjunct Faculty Organization

John D. Rall
Adjunct English Faculty
Mendocino College
Ukiah, CA

Lisa Robertson, M.A.
Adjunct Instructor of Art History, Cleveland State University, 2002-2016
Volunteer, Ohio Higher Education Coalition and New Faculty Majority

Lydia Snow, M.A.
Music Instructor, Northeastern Illinois University
Delegate, UPI 4100

Lana Sumpter, PhD
Adjunct Writing Instructor
Baker College

Katherine Ward, PhD
Adjunct Instructor, Anthropology
AFT Part-Time Faculty United
Local 6286


I would also add that this sounds a lot like the first step in the neoliberal tactic of defunding a public sector service until it breaks, then telling the public it doesn’t work, and then wrapping that sector up in a bow for privatization. What do you think, U. of Wisconsin, Illinois, Pennsylvania, Mount St. Mary’s, etc.?

Feel free to sign with us Troublemakers in the comments below, and watch this space for an official follow-up from NFM.

Insecure, Insulted and Ignored: No Way to Treat a Donor–Part 3

by Chessie Green

Editors Note: This series first appeared on the New Faculty Majority blog in 2013.

Part 1, Part 2


Let’s throw a bone to the university for just a moment and view the adjunct as a willing and generous donor who gives the students and the university a gift. “It’s a privilege” to teach for the university and “the best adjuncts want to give back.” Place a value on it: let’s say a couple of hundred thousand dollars’ worth of expertise, and for the students, a priceless amount of caring and attention.  In return, the university gives them a tip and treats them without respect and as completely dispensable. 

To recap the situation: I, a willing adjunct, someone who is teaching as a sideline, found myself agreeing at the last minute to substitute for a full-time faculty member. I was assigned to an unsecured, empty building at night with no technology in the classroom except for a DVD player in poor working condition.  The white board was filthy; the erasers didn’t work.  On the last night of class, someone had turned off the power.  I received emails from various university departments urging me not to slip on the ice, to beware of tornadoes, and to seek counseling if I had concerns about a shooting at another university in the state.

And then, I received a personalized letter from the Provost requesting that I make a charitable gift to the university.  “Now is the best time,” he wrote, “because any gift you make will be matched, dollar for dollar.  By giving now, you can double the benefit to our students!”

He went on, “Your gift—of any amount—truly matters to the university and our students! We rely on supportive individuals to fund improvements every single year that allow us to maintain our position as one of the nation’s preeminent universities.”

I briefly considered a gift of $20, which, if matched, would be worth $40, and they could then have bought a working DVD player for the classroom.

In sending me a fundraising appeal, the university reinforced its view that the adjunct is a donor—financially and in-kind.  Yet the university has shown only indifference to the students and me and our minimal needs.

When donors make a gift of a couple hundred thousand dollars to the university, there is an abundance of recognition and respect.  They honor them with dinners, feature stories in the alumni magazine, and appointments to advisory bodies.  They name entire programs and buildings after them.

In the case of this quite generous donor, myself, during that same semester summarized above, they forgot to pay me the little fee, the tip, the token of gratitude.  When I inquired, I received this response: “I finally have an answer for you re. the pay: you will be paid in lump sum, but not until [one month after the end of the semester].  Once again, I must apologize that not everything was done as it should have been: we have one faculty member who is paid through a different account, and in getting her sorted out, there was a misunderstanding on who would initiate your pay.”

And so, Dear Reader, ends the three-part series “Insecure, Insulted and Ignored: No Way to Treat a Donor.”  It has been aimed at those who think of themselves as “willing adjuncts” who don’t teach “for the money.”  We have common ground with the involuntary adjuncts and should join NFM in solidarity.   


Chessie Green is a pseudonym.

Insecure, Insulted and Ignored: No Way to Treat a Donor–Part 2

by Chessie Green

Editors Note: This series first appeared on the New Faculty Majority blog in 2013. Part 1


Let’s throw a bone to the university for just a moment and view the adjunct as a willing and generous donor who gives the students and the university a gift. “It’s a privilege” to teach for the university and “the best adjuncts want to give back.” Place a value on it: let’s say a couple of hundred thousand dollars worth of expertise, and for the students, a priceless amount of caring and attention.  In return, the university gives them a tip and treats them without respect and as completely dispensable. 

Continuing on my riff of the adjunct as donor, I’d like to tell you what happened when I “donated” my time and years of expertise as a last minute substitute for a full-time, tenure-track faculty member.  I had two weeks to prepare, and at the appointed time, on a dark January evening, I arrived at the designated building.

The building, on a satellite campus, appeared to be closed. Most of the lights had been turned off.  There was a weak light over what turned out to be the entrance. The building was completely unsecured.

The next day, I contacted the faculty liaison for my department (whose offices are on the main campus). I described the fact that the building was dark and unsecured and asked what I should do in case of emergency.  I received no response.

Then, one day we all received a message from the Office of Risk Management urging us not to slip on the ice.  I thought, “Aha!  Risk management!  They’ll care, surely!”  I asked them about the dark, unsecured building and what we should do in an emergency.  I received a response saying my email was being forwarded to the supervisor of the satellite campus.

I eventually received a call from this nice gentleman.  He didn’t know there was a class in the building after 7 at night.   He said there were surveillance cameras but they were not monitored (unless something happens, then they serve as a record).  In an emergency, he said, go down to the lobby where there is a phone that you can use to dial 911.  Or, use your cell phone.

By the way, the restrooms on the first floor were open, too.

Then, we received a message about our department’s new satellite offices now being in the same building.  It was accompanied by elaborate instructions on unlocking the new adjunct’s room.

A short while after that, we received a message to beware of tornadoes.

Okay, so I won’t slip on the ice, and I will beware of tornadoes!  But, honest to God, when I went to the satellite campus in full daylight to meet with a student in our department’s new offices, I found that (1) the department’s offices were securely locked, requiring a code to get in, and (2) within that suite of offices, the “adjunct office” was locked, and (3) once in, I saw that it was full of empty boxes and a really old computer.

There are a few more dimensions to security I would like to mention before drawing some conclusions.

My assigned classroom was not set up technologically.  When I called the number posted on the wall for technical help, I learned that I had to fill in a form, come get the equipment myself (in a different building) and return the equipment myself before they went home for the evening. So I would be carrying this equipment on a dark urban street, etc. but it would be my responsibility.

On the last night of class, we found our classroom locked. A sign on the door said if we needed to use the classroom, the key was in the library.  If we needed to use the classroom?  I got the key from the library, and the librarian said, by the way, there is no electricity in the classroom.  There were lights, but they shut off the power to the outlets.  Since I was planning on showing a DVD related to our subject, she said she would ask the security personnel to get some extension cords so we could connect to an outlet in the library.  IT TOOK 25 MINUTES FOR SECURITY PERSONNEL TO RESPOND. 

Oh, by the way, the white boards were filthy, and the eraser didn’t clean them.

Postscript: the DVD I had brought worked perfectly when I tested it at home, and worked perfectly when I re-tested it afterwards at home.  When I played it for the class, it skipped and misbehaved in various ways.  So, even the DVD player at the university was not appropriately maintained.

And then, we received an email inviting us to seek counseling if we needed it.  There had been a shooting at another university in the state, and two people were killed.  “Members of our university community are reminded that our Office of Counseling and Psychological Services is available to anyone wishing or needing to share any feelings, thoughts or concerns they might have about this incident. As always, if you witness suspicious activity, call 911 to alert Campus Police.”

I thought of responding by saying that something quite similar, in fact worse, could have happened in our dark, unsecured classroom building, and the university would only have been able to offer us “counseling.”

The university has got us covered.  They really know how to protect empty boxes and equipment old and new.  They know how to lock out the students from a department’s offices.  They are timely in their warnings not to slip on the ice.  They alert us to tornadoes.  If there is an intruder on the upper floor, all I have to do is take the elevator down to the first floor and use the lobby phone to dial 911.  Maybe someone from security will show up in 25 minutes.  If something happens to us, they may be able to catch the perp by reviewing old reels from the surveillance camera.

The university knows how to protect the interests of everybody except the students and faculty.


 

Chessie Green is a pseudonym.

Part 3