The yucky jobs I have to do as dean. Fight with the administration. Explain to an adjunct why it is not okay to force students to write brilliant evaluations of him. Explain to a search committee that I don't give a flying f... how brilliant Mr. X is, he was caught plagiarizing and I am not hiring him.
And speak with Mr. Eyes. The students had complained. He spends most of his time eying their boobs and buttocks. He comes around in the lab and touches their shoulders. And he insists they friend him on Facebook.
Mr. Eyes couldn't find the dean's office, so I had to troupe out and fetch him, as the only time he could come was Friday afternoon at 4 p.m. No slaves around the office to send at that time of day.
But it was lucky that I did. We had a nice little elevator ride together, maybe 10 seconds. And he did the boobs thing (face - left boob - right boob - left boob - face) three to four times. So I ushered him into the office, took his coat, offered him water, we sat down, and I began.
I pointed with two fingers to my eyes and said: My eyes are here.
He was startled, and asked me to repeat what I had said. I said, my eyes are up here, not down on my chest, and I would appreciate him looking me in the eyes when we speak. That behavior like this makes many women uncomfortable.
He said that he was not aware of doing this. I continued with the other sins. He just wanted to have pictures of the students so he can learn their names, that's why he wanted them to friend him in Facebook. And he posts his exercises there.
I suggested he attend the next Moodle course if he want to continue teaching here. He just got a great contract, so he might not continue. So I asked him to let us know in good time if he is not continuing.
The poor boy, he tried really hard during the conversation to keep his eyes off. He gave in to the urge 3 times. I let him drink up, smiled, gave him a handshake, and he scampered off.
My husband thinks I was terrorizing him. I felt very good at finally having a position of power that let me feel comfortable with calling out a boob gazer, because I very seldom say anything, although it irritates the hell out of me. Waddya think?