academic labor

Reblog and Commentary: “What being an adjunct ISN’T like — and what it is,” by Blogenspiel

This essay makes many sound points about the misguided metaphors that pose adjunct labor as slavery. The core argument here–that adjunct labor is not, in any structural or analogical fashion, comparable to slavery–is sound. This is a point that needs to be repeated, again and again: when you pose things that aren’t slavery *as* slavery, you are going to lose your argument, because you clearly don’t grasp the consequences of your words. Put another way, the average adjunct salary of $22,041 is abysmal–been there, done that, TRUST–but that is indeed a salary.* Your advanced degree does not guarantee you success, nor a fortune. Given the decades-long supply-glut in my own field, the rational choice for those in academe is to channel honed skills into non-academic work–or to force open the boundaries of what is considered acceptable academic work. (Or, to get a different job and pursue a passion by other means.)

But, there’s a certain sentiment here that takes away from this argument. The second half’s search for an appropriate analogy could best be summarized as “Some People Have Real Problems: You Likely Don’t (When Placed In Perspective of Others’ Suffering).”

Yet, the aim for a rational short-term choice is how many get stuck in an adjuncting rut. In other words, some of us knew damn well we were getting a “single scoop of vanilla in a cup” when we got into it–but, for some of us, the recession made the job hunt writ-large feel like a giant game of trick-or-treat: an underwhelming dessert is better than a rock. The economic climate is different than it was 5 years ago–enough to see much more promise in pursuing alt-ac, post-ac, and non-ac avenues–but that doesn’t mean that people aren’t still caught in a web of decisions made half a decade ago.

But that’s the irony: A shitty choice is a still a choice. Further, that kind of choice reveals an interconnected system of opportunities for choice that go far beyond what could be exercised–or often imagined–within slavery.

Hence, the main argument here needs to be shouted from the rooftop (from every ivory tower?): You want change? First acknowledge your own privileged position–and the luck in being alive here, now–and then realize that your life and career are incomparable to slavery. You win no sympathies through that tactic, especially by using it around people who *literally* know better.

It’s evident the author understands the dilemmas that millions of Americans in shitty, underwhelming non-academic careers face. For academics, however, the advice trends toward “You made your bed, now lie in it, because at least you have one.”

*Income is an estimate given by U.S. Committee on Education and the Workforce. See: Andrew Erwin and Marjorie Wood, “The One Percent At State U: How Public University Presidents Profit from Rising Student Debt and Low-Wage Faculty Labor” (Washington, D.C.: Institute for Policy Studies, 2014): 10.

Blogenspiel

I’m a little late to the party on this, having recently been at the Zoo and now madly working on what could be the most scary presentation in my life to this point; however, I want to take a little time to address a seriesofinterestingposts, one of which really and truly pisses me off. I can’t be bothered to look back and find any number of other posts that talk about how academia screws graduate students, or how nobody warned them and now they’ve wasted their lives and money. I’m just… PEOPLE, what the FUCK are you thinking??

In case you’re a first-time visitor (it happens), I have spent time as an adjunct and VAP. Several years, in fact. I now have a full-time job. By many people’s estimations, my own included, I probably shouldn’t. I did a lot of things wrong during my (very long)…

View original post 2,630 more words

Link: Essay about inability to find a tenure-track job in academe | Inside Higher Ed

Essay about inability to find a tenure-track job in academe | Inside Higher Ed.

Please, give this a read if you want a great first-hand account about the ordeals of going on the academic job market. It is as eloquent as it is harrowing. The essay, written by Patrick Iber, hit especially close to home because his doctorate is in history. As someone pursuing a doctorate in the same discipline–but at a university with considerably less prestige than the University of Chicago–I constantly worry about my job chances once I reach candidacy. I am also certain I’m not the only doctoral student in my field who feels this way. Even if one is angling toward alt-ac or non-ac jobs, getting hired anywhere still seems tenuous, at best.

Iber sums up this fear incredibly well in this excerpt:

If the last few months of my life have featured more than their share of heartbreak, my employment experience is sadly common. Universities trade on our hopes, and on the fact that we have spent many years developing skills so specialized that few really want them, to offer increasingly insecure careers to young scholars. Although a fortunate few make smooth transitions onto the tenure track, many are lost in a phase of lecturing, adjuncting, or even unemployment. To those of us on the outside, the current academic employment system resembles a two-tier contract in which we are punished simply for having made the poor decision to graduate in the middle of a recession. Compensation for our labor is unprofessional, and we and our families are expected to bear this as a sign of commitment to disciplines and institutions that reserve the right never to commit to us.

Give this a read if you are in graduate school, or are considering graduate school. Give it a read if you are interested in history but think the only legitimate career path is professorship. Give it a read if you love first-person memoir. And, finally, give it a read if you really want to learn a bit more about the devastating labor shifts within academia since the Great Recession.