- Professor Chiltepin, 10/1/12
It wasn't too long ago that I was doing shift work, when I had to report to my station at 10 minutes til X and was confined to unimpressive surroundings until the next drone came in 9 hours later... and for those who are not algebraically challenged, X was a variable. And boy did it vary.
"But... but... but... at least when you left work you didn't have to think about your job," you claim. Sure I did! That's an individual trait in most of us, as well as a choice. I rather enjoy thinking about how I can better do whatever it is I'm involved in, be it work or play. The difference now is that I feel that the work I carry around on my shoulders is worth a lot more of the concern that I have for it. And do you really envy those folks who seem to walk out of the workplace and effortlessly leave it all behind them? The reason they can do this is because they don't particularly give a shit about what they're doing, even while they're on the clock. They're assholes.The ironies on CM are what make me laugh these days. We bitch about how every student wants a cookie just for showing up. How no one appreciates us and everything we do. It seems we're not so different from them sometimes. You want them to learn for the love of learning? Start looking for your OWN intrinsic motivation first. You didn't sign up for this because you thought it was going to be easy, did you? Well it ain't easy. But in the grand scheme of things, it ain't that hard either.
All well and good until you have classes that require you to run uphill through 3 feet of mud. Teaching is a two way streets, kiddos, I say. The joy of learning goes quickly when you are the ONLY one doing the learning.
ReplyDeleteHaving worked in and out of academia, I can say that the joys of teaching are dimishing as cellphones and internet are expanding. And I honestly think you might feel differently if you were teach at an open admissions institution.
Institution, indeed.
Well put, Corky. I'll freely admit that the flexibility to plan my own days and weeks, within certain limits, is one of the things I value most about my academic job (it's not quite, I fear, a career, though it has some of the hallmarks thereof). And, oddly, I almost wish I had service piled on top of my own 4/4 load, since it would mean having a voice (but I'd much prefer a 3/3 and service, especially since that's what my teaching-intensive TT colleagues -- a diminishing cohort, but they do still exist, and are a vital part of an increasingly research-oriented department -- have). I'll also admit that a considerable amount of my own motivation at this point is extrinsic: if I didn't need the salary and benefits, I wouldn't keep my present job (though I'd probably still do some research and writing, and, if not classroom teaching, at least some sort of communicating with the larger public about the things I was researching and writing about. I'd also spend a lot more time gardening, walking, and cooking, and be the healthier for it).
ReplyDeleteHowever, I'm not sure I really expect only, or even mostly, intrinsic motivation from my students. I teach required courses, and, though I try to explain the value of what we're doing, I don't care deeply if my students believe the course is valuable, or are as fascinated as I am by how knowledge is created and communicated (the underlying subject of my classes), as long as they fulfill what I see as their basic responsibilities as students: read the course materials, ask useful questions (i.e. ones not explicitly covered in said course materials), do the work I assign, mostly on time, don't complain about the consequences of being late on occasion, and accept that, even when they work hard and well, they won't always earn an A. At least at my (modestly-selective) institution, that last is probably the issue that prompts my "they want a cookie" complaints; I believe very strongly that a student can learn a lot from a course in which (s)he receives a B or C or even D or F, sometimes even more than one in which (s)he receives an A. That's especially true of a course like the one I teach, a writing in the disciplines course that is meant to prepare students for work in their majors (in other words, it's meant to be an entry-level course, albeit one taken midway through their college careers). If I'm pitching it so that a few students receive As and the majority receive Bs of some sort (some of which would probably be Cs in a more rigorous grading system, but I have my limits when it comes to listening to weeping and/or gnashing of teeth, and also realize that absolutely panicking students via grades is not particularly productive), I figure I'm providing a level of challenge appropriate to the course, one which will push them to try new things, succeed a bit, but also fail (or at least fall short) a bit, and so, in the process, learn. It's the students who see me as a Pez dispenser of grades (a very slow, balky, flawed one, which often shaves off part of the tablet before spitting it out) who get my goat.
(continued)
DeleteOthers' mileage, of course, will vary, especially in response to our own sources of intrinsic motivation. For me, it's mostly about the ideas; though I have no objection to interacting with students, and quite like and respect many of my students, I'm not, as an introvert, energized by classroom interactions in the way that many of my more extroverted colleagues are (this probably also explains why I care less than many teachers about whether my students like me, or my subject matter; for me, it's enough that I feel that I'm doing my job responsibly and fairly, giving the students an experience that has value, whether or not they appreciate that value). I'm frustrated that some of the extrinsic rewards, pay chief among them, aren't greater, but mostly because worrying about money becomes a distraction from productive work (teaching or writing). Partly because my own sources of motivation tend to be so interior, I'm somewhat puzzled by the idea that I can somehow motivate students. I'm happy to provide extrinsic motivation in the form of a carefully-scaffolded set of assignments that will nearly always lead to a passing grade (but not necessarily an A) if the student is diligent in completing them, and that might even, I hope, lead to some intrinsic motivation in the form of learning more about the workings of a discipline a student has chosen for him/herself, but I'm surprised when people seem to think that, if only I cared enough, I could not only lead the whole class of horses over a safe, clear, path to the pond, but also get them all to drink. There seems to be a cultural assumption that teachers (good ones, at least) can not only appeal to their students' various pre-existing sources of motivation, but actually create motivation. I'm not so sure I buy that.
I agree with everything you've written here and thank you for articulating my feelings so clearly.
DeleteAs my dad always said, if it were fun, we wouldn't call it work. Academics are lucky to have some intrinsically fun things that come with the job (or at least things that we consider fun...). Still, Dr. Tivo is right to point out that, by their very structure, some places bring out the fun parts better than others.
ReplyDeleteWhen I feel bad about Flyover State I just remember the time I spent working at a plastics plant. Eight hours grabbing bottles, scorching hot out of the mold, and taking the leftover plastic from top and bottom. About 3000 times per shift, day in, day out...
ReplyDeleteSpending a whole day grading does not sound that bad.
I worked at That Company with the Brown Trucks for a scorching hot summer in the mid-90s fresh out of grad school.
DeleteYes, this job is better by far, even though I'm not union. But every job has its suckage. And we come here to vent the suckage that is related to our lives in academia.
And unlike most of us with our huge stacks of grading (which must be read, and graded fairly), if Corky from Columbus doesn't want to read our venting, Corky from Columbus doesn't have to read it.
It's called College Misery, for Christ's sweet sake.
Oh for God's sake. Have you no decency whatsoever, sir?
ReplyDeleteHere is how a typical successful academic career for a scientist goes, these days:
Age 18-22: paying high tuition fees at an undergraduate college,
Age 22-30: graduate school, possibly with a bit of work, living on a stipend of $1,800 per month,
Age 30-37: working as a postdoc for $30,000 to $35,000 per year
Age 38-45: professor at a good, but not great, university for $65,000 per year
Age 46: with (if lucky) young children at home, fired (more politely, “denied tenure”) by the university, begins searching for a job in a market where employers primarily wish to hire people in their early 30s .
This is how things are likely to go for the smartest kid you sat next to in college. He got into Stanford for graduate school. He got a postdoc at MIT. His experiment worked out and he was therefore fortunate to land a job at University of California, Irvine. But at the end of the day, his research wasn't quite interesting or topical enough that the university wanted to commit to paying him a salary for the rest of his life. He is now 46 years old, with a family to feed, and looking for job with a “second rate has-been” label on his forehead.
This assumes one has a family in the first place. The postdoctoral period is about as family unfriendly as any job possibly can be, with all the moving around of the military, and none of the security. So much for being able “to come and go as I pleased.”
Who in one's right mind does this? There’s a good reason many Americans choose not to go into science: they -aren’t- stupid!
Of course, over 75% of academics these days never even get a tenure-track offer. They get on the adjunct treadmill, making $20,000 to $25,000/year teaching, with no research, no benefits, and no security whatsoever, especially not if they have any standards or integrity.
Sure, I put in a stint as a taxi driver in Chicago. It was hot, nerve-wracking, and dangerous as hell. But it paid better than being an adjunct, and at least I didn’t have to go to school for half my life to do it!
P.S. You insufferably smug bastard!
Delete$1800 a month stipend in graduate school? Is that for real? I barely reach $1300. My God, $1800 would be a dream. Which just goes to show how sad this business is, I guess.
DeleteYou know, I did in fact work a large number of non-academic jobs before I ended up in academia. I didn't like them one bit. This career suits me very well and I heartily enjoy it, as I said.
ReplyDeleteHow does it necessarily follow then that I can't admit or acknowledge the things in my current job that are bizarre, difficult, or emotionally draining? I must somehow be perpetually positive about everything, because kids are starving in China? It didn't make sense when Mom said, and it don't make no sense now.
This job is great. I concede that. I love it. But this job is also weird and misunderstood by those not in it. Maybe you're just lucky that you can laugh at the irony of those who find this job difficult. But compassion doesn't live well with smugness, so I'm not sharing that sense of superiority.
(By the way, if this job isn't hard, you probably aren't doing it right.)
I love my job and try to complain relatively little, given what others are going through. But you know what? The conditions for doing it have gotten steadily worse over the years -- fewer and fewer well-prepared students, overstuffed classes, publish AND perish, service that equals fake faculty governance as far as I can tell. You can say you have a decent job and still stand up against its deterioration.
ReplyDeleteWhat Frog and Toad said.
ReplyDeleteAnd I'd go a little further - _because_ I know that I am very lucky (as well as good at what I do) to have this 'continuing' job, I feel duty bound to not 'paper over the cracks' in the system which are manifest in all the little issues that make the job less fun - the lack of preparation among willing students, the larger classes, the greater burden of paperwork which doesn't noticeably change anything, the pressure to publish AND get grants AND teach more classes more betterer to a a group of students who are 'trained' to expect entertainment and to quit when something is hard to do or not immediately obviously exciting. I'm lucky - to have work, and to work in a location where a reasonable number of the students come from families which have a general expectation of a need to work hard and earn your grades/pay, and some belief in the power of education to open new doors for them both intellectually and in terms of possible careers. They're not the majority, but they turn up in most of my classes and even the ones who are working hard, continually confused, and cheerfully earning the Cs their work deserves still make me believe in this profession.
But there are enough of the others, and problem colleagues and structural issues at institution, region and national levels, that a) I find it reassuring to come here and see that the problems are wide-spread, b) I find it useful to learn a few things about how other people deal with these issues and c) I work hard to separate my personal whinges from the real issues, and then complain about/highlight/try to fix the real issues. Whinging here helps a LOT with that process of winnowing...