Gleanings from Cassandra's Inbox
- The governor of my state would like me to wear “business casual” attire in the colors of the flagship state university (for which I do not work; I work for one of its up-and-coming younger siblings), one of whose teams is currently competing in a championship, and pay $5 a day to the state disaster fund for the privilege. The letter contains a paragraph describing the devastation wrought by recent tornadoes (which is quite real, and deserving of sympathy and aid), and another extolling the state’s “many top-flight college athletic programs,” followed by a list of recent victories. As I sit here in my nightgown (which does not incorporate either Flagship U’s or my own U’s colors), teaching an online summer class to supplement my long-stagnant income (the governor talks a good game about higher education, but hasn’t put the state’s money where his mouth is), and blissfully unaware, as usual, of all things athletic, I don’t think I quite fit into the intended audience that whoever wrote this missive envisioned. I suspect that one of my colleagues better trained in rhetoric than I could have a field day picking apart its oddly assorted and sometimes competing appeals, however.
- What appears to be a cram school cum summer camp with an extremely cheery name (not quite unicorns and rainbows, but close) would like to hire me to work with middle schoolers seeking entry into a highly-selective local public math/science high school. My job would be to “challenge,” “inspire,” and “motivate” them. “Being taught by men of learning would be an honor for our students,” this missive concludes. Presumably they employ women of learning, too, since they emailed me, but, despite that, the “competitive salary” offered (competitive with what, I wonder), and the financial straits mentioned above, I think I’ll pass (EMH, I don’t think we’re in the same location, but if this sounds interesting and you want to double-check, feel free to email me; this username has a gmail address).
Wear the school's colours? Bitch, please. Unless you peddle burgers or you're a security guard, you get to wear what you want. Besides, when the pay's as low as it is for many, business casual is often well out of reach.
ReplyDeleteI very briefly taught at a place where I was asked to write my name on a form exactly how I want it to appear on my name tag. Everyone was *actually* given a name tag, like a stewardess or cashier at safeway. When asked why I wasn't going to comply, I said I wasn't a very good team player.
And "men of learning"? Really? They do that tired old gendered nonsense?
ReplyDelete@Cranky: I think the assumption is that recipients usually wear business formal, or whatever the next step up from business casual is, and would welcome (and pay for) the chance to wear something more comfortable during an approaching heat wave. The letter apparently went out to all state employees, so it may make more sense to many recipients than to me. Fair enough, but if he was going to run through the team names of all the state universities, and enumerate their recent athletic successes, it would have been nice if he had said *something* complimentary about the universities' educational missions as well.
ReplyDeleteOn the second missive, I think there may be some ESL issues/cultural differences involved. But charging teachers with "inspiring" and "motivating" students sounds very American, at least to me.
Oh, and I now also have an email from my own university's annual giving campaign, reminding me that July 1 is approaching and I haven't contributed yet.
Also 3 emails in 3 hours from Conferencing Clara confirming minute details associated with turning in the final assignments of the summer term.
I'm really, really looking forward to putting up a vacation message, and ignoring my inbox for a while.
Is "men of learning" the science and engineering equivalent of "living a life of the mind," made popular by "Dead Poet's Society"?
ReplyDeleteBrief hi-jack follows:
Dr. Cranky:"Everyone was *actually* given a name tag, like a stewardess or cashier at safeway."
They tried that here and I told them, "I didn't go to college and earn an advanced degree to get a job where I have to wear my name on my shirt."
Make that 4 emails in 3 hours from Clara.
ReplyDeleteSawyer, it's not a science/engineering thing, or at least I've never heard of it. We would laugh such a phrase on two accounts. At my school, there are very talented female scientists and some of our "men of learning" are truly idiots.
ReplyDeleteI'm thinking of the scene in the Coen Bros. movie Barton Fink in which a man blows another man away with a shotgun, repeatedly, in a sleazy hotel hallway, while yelling, "I will SHOW you a life of the mind!"
ReplyDeleteThat Clara's outta control...maybe rather than ignore her emails you tell here that she is actually sending too many, and needs to slow it down and think before firing off every goddam thought and question that pops into her needy head. I'm sure someone else can recommend a nicer way of wording that.
ReplyDeleteSo Clara just won't go away? There's a way to make sure she never takes classes from you again! Make HER wear the state colors!
ReplyDeleteOne of the best things I ever did was to teach a summer class for middle schoolers, but they were the gifted ones (not needing to be inspired or motivated by me). They were SO excited to learn. I kept waiting for them to say, "You're kidding? You want us to do what?" like my current students do. But they never did. ANd seeing that you're more enlightened than 'men of learning,' perhaps it's best to stay away.
Christ on a cracker, Cassandra, I think it's time for an e-mail address change.
ReplyDelete@Cranky, Cynic, and F&T: she seems to have calmed down after that little flurry. I think she'd been counting on having at least one more tete-a-tete with me, and was surprised to learn during our meeting yesterday that I wouldn't be on campus again (I never thought to announce that I *wouldn't* be available in person on certain days. It is, after all, an online class.) If it weren't the last week of the term, I would, indeed, have to deal with the issue more directly. As it is, I think the simplest approach is to answer a bit less promptly, turn in grades, and turn on my vacation message. As Sawyer said elsewhere, online classes are not for everybody.
ReplyDelete@Cynic: my only experience with teaching middle schoolers was in England. They threw spitballs at me and giggled every time I said "closet" (which they'd only heard as part of the phrase "come out of the closet"; to them, that very small room was a "cupboard") or pronounced "poem" with one syllable. But it was more the organizers of this school than the potential students who put me off (well, that and the fact that, broke or not, I'm also exhausted, and need/want to do a bit of research and writing this summer. 'Twill help my sanity, if not my pocketbook or even my job prospects).
Excuse me being a buttinski, but with Clara I would suggest that she keep a seperate small notepad for writing down questions, ideas, etc. Possibly once she has the stuff on paper she will be able to sort the necessary questions from the panic-driven shooting-the-hand-in-the-air questions. Right now she is a "negative gunner"*.
ReplyDeleteIf you like, I can have your governor taken away for 50 years in one of "my" Funcamps, but a man from my party will have to replace him....for extra I can have the replacement look and sound like the original. Just dial 1-800-MANCHU-CAN.
@Strelnikov: I like that idea. It occurs to me that, should a similar student appear in one of my future classes, I might also productively institute a "one email a day" guideline/rule.
ReplyDeleteI think my governor is going to run up against a term limit soon, but I'll hold on to the number (which, interestingly, Skype is highlighting as real. Wonder what would happen if I called it?)