Defending my salary: An easy target writes back

Imagine being the constant target of derision from the general public, disconnected people in authority positions, legislators, and your own customers. Imagine that your interns’ opinions count more than your supervisor’s in your annual evaluation. Imagine fielding emails filled with questions, concerns, and requests from customers, colleagues, and supervisors at 10:00pm on a Thursday night, 8:00am on a Saturday morning, and 2:00pm on a Sunday afternoon. Imagine the salary that would be attached to that job. Now think again.

As an easy target for everyone’s misconceptions and assumptions about what university professors do, as exemplified by David Levy’s recent missive in the Washington Post declaring that we don’t work hard enough (I evidently make six figures and work 30 hours a week – news to me, by the way), I decided to write back in another attempt to restore balance to this narrative battle that we faculty seem to be losing.

While our critics such as Levy and anyone who knows nothing about what we do, but who seem to embrace an ingrained fantasy as reality, would never agree to Jill Kronstadt’s call to “shadow a community college professor. Or come work as an adjunct,” perhaps the more rationally-minded amongst blogosphere readers will consider a typical day during spring semester in an effort to fill in the gaps.

Specifically, this was my Wednesday, March 28, 2012.

As a second-year, tenure-track Pennsylvania state school faculty member, my salary is $51,000 a year. I have been at Kutztown University since August 2010, and my salary has stagnated because we don’t have a contract.

8:00 – 8:30am – Respond to 11 student emails that arrived the night before. Gulp down coffee and banana for breakfast. Pet the cat.

8:30 – 8:45am – Get dressed. Confirm 10am meeting with Social Equity office.

9:00 – 9:45am – Arrive at school, visit English Department main office, sign three forms as the Temporary Hiring Committee Chair, discuss personnel matter with English Department chair in closed-door impromptu meeting, open newly arrived dossier materials for Department secretary to add to applicants’ files.

10:00 – 10:50am – (Notice I haven’t taught anyone anything yet?) Meeting with Social Equity office to discuss proper procedures for interviewing candidates, reasons for inviting applicants to campus, the specific language to avoid, as well as the order in which everything must happen. Take notes and ask questions as April 1 we begin reviewing applications for Linguistics temporary instructor.

11:00am – Arrive University Writing Center. As the director of the Center, my presence facilitates a more professional atmosphere, even though it is difficult to get work done because I do not have an office with a door. I actually sit in the waiting area of the Writing Center and work on my Netbook while tutoring and discussions are ongoing all day.

1:00 – 2:30pm – Students from Advanced Composition and College Composition classes meet with me to discuss progress on current projects. Several ask me to read their essays and provide feedback, which I do. One College Comp student realizes she is completely off-base and we discuss how to get her back on track. I offer to grant her a one-week extension to improve her chances at success.

2:30 – 3:00pm – Student who had previously asked me to be her advisor explains the latest problems/drama and that she was denied a change in advisor. I help her to understand the wisdom of the Department Chair’s decision and encourage her to focus her work and not let the drama get her down.

 3:00 – 3:30pm – Respond to students, Social Equity, colleagues, and my Department Chair via email as questions and requests are continuous.

3:30 – 3:45pm – Return to English office across campus, review incomplete applications for Linguistics position, ask Department secretary to compose reminder emails to applicants that their materials are incomplete.

4:00 – 4:30pm – Difficult conversation with student worker about reappointment.

4:30pm – Drive home.

5:00 – 10:00pm – Complete various me-tasks such as laundry, cleaning kitchen, enjoying two personal phone calls, and eating dinner, while intermittently responding to student emails, reading and commenting on student blogs, crafting a proposal to present at a national conference in 2013, emailing colleagues to drum up interest, writing a letter of recommendation for another student, and then creating Google doc for new panel.

10:30pm – Go to bed.

That’s a typical Wednesday. And Monday. In fact, today was close to this detailed description with the addition of a phone interview. My Social Equity meeting this morning consisted of certifying candidates that the committee would like to interview. And tonight I need to work on my presentation for a national conference in Boston this Saturday instead of crafting a panel for a conference next year.

 I teach three classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Notice how much research I completed? Notice how much grading I did? Notice how different this day is from your conception of what professors do? The requirements of my job are to teach, research, publish, present at national conferences, serve on committees (department, college, and university level), do community service, and (for me right now) run the University Writing Center. Much of the research, administrative work, and community service take place on weekends, over breaks, and during the summer.

If only my job just consisted of teaching. What a dream.

I take home $2600 net a month. Now tell me I make too much and I don’t work hard enough.

Student and Professor Rights & Responsibilities

Having just finished three straight days of student conferences (and having an hour before my three-hour evening class), I find myself ruminating on rights and responsibilities. Specifically, students' rights and responsibilities and professors' rights and responsibilities. What might those be?

To wit, when faced with a student who has written nothing for the extensive major project due two days from now and whose response, when asked why he would set himself up to do poorly on the assignment, involves some shrugging and a meek, "I don't know," I had what Jon Stewart might call a moment of zen. In this moment, I felt both revulsion and relief, disappointment and acceptance, confusion and clarity.

This paradox presents itself every semester when a few (not many, thank goodness) students sit across from me in my office and unabashedly (and sometimes apologetically) acknowledge their procrastination and the potential negative effect it will likely have on their performance in my class, as though they have no control over this behavior. They sometimes even make frank and unapologetic admissions, as my student this afternoon did when I asked if he procrastinates and ignores work in other classes, that no, in fact, he does all his work in all of his other classes. And when I further asked why he thought not doing the work in my class was a good idea, all I got in return was the look of wide-eyed disbelief at being called out.

Now that I have a moment to look back upon these three days that are designed to help students further their progress on their stories (after all, these conferences don't help ME) and perhaps clarify any points of confusion, I can happily report that only five of 50 students didn't show for a conference and only four of the conference attendees had not done any work on the project. As my officemate would say, that's an incredible percentage. That's over half who were prepared, had specific questions, and who I was able to guide and encourage. I agree, that's wonderful. But as a teacher, I can't help but wonder what is going on with the minority - the select special nine who seem to think that writing a complex, comprehensive humor-laden story with a specific underlying meaning can be done with any degree of satisfaction and passability the night before. Perhaps the answer lies in rights and responsibilities:

Professors have a right to expect college students.

Students have a right to behave as though they are still in high school.


Professors have a right to expect students to make good decisions, prepare for meetings, do the work of the class.

Students have a right to make bad decisions, come unprepared for meetings, and to ignore the work of the class.

Notice the difference in action. All we, as professors, have a right to is to expect responsible behavior...but that doesn't mean we are going to get it. Students, on the other hand, have two clear action paths - take the route of responsibility or the path of Halo/Madden/beer/girls/boys/pizza/lame excuses/sleep.

Understandably, these freshmen are overwhelmed by a new place, new and higher expectations, new people, living away from family and their childhood comfort zones. But so many students are successful in the transition that it always makes me question why those few seem unable or unwilling to take the right route.

Because here's the clincher - students in both groups expect to succeed based on their choices, decisions, and behaviors. This fact is what puts this conundrum into the realm of the unsolvable for me; this I cannot relate to in any way, shape, or manner.

Honestly, when I made bad decisions in my youth, I knew it. But I also knew to expect sometimes dire consequences and never thought to beg for a better grade when I wrote the paper two hours before it was due. Granted, this was my high school behavior and by the time I got to college, I straightened up pretty fast because I was paying for it myself and wanted to succeed. However, my first two years as a non-traditional student found me taking classes that I really hated - math and science. These were not even close to favorites and they were hard for me. But I never ignored the work. I always at least tried. And when I met with a professor, I had questions, perhaps instinctively understanding that arriving unprepared was a massive waste of this person's time...this person who might be able to help me...or take pity on me (etc, etc) and to waste said person's time might be truly devastating to my grade (ie, negative consequences).

Professors have a responsibility to teach the approved curriculum in the fashion they deem productive.

Students have a responsibility to...and here's where it gets fuzzy. 

What IS a student's responsibility in this day and age at a university? My gut reaction to this question is directly informed by MY experiences and MY work ethic, which is decidedly at odds (very often) with the current generation of college-aged students. (Again, not all...but enough to make me continually return to this puzzlement.)

Ultimately, there are lots of ways I could complete that student responsibility statement, from snarky and smart-ass to serious and philosophical. But I'm not going to complete it. How would YOU finish that statement? And before you answer, ask yourself whether you are answering through your lens of experience, or whether you think it truly applies to today's college students. I'm looking forward to the responses!