I am an adjunct whore.

From semester-to-semester, I do tricks, my adjunct legs spread wide, willing to settle for a pittance for my services.

I am cheap. I am expendable. I am powerless.

Should I make waves, I will be dismissed, for the next adjunct whore is standing in line, waiting for my crumbs. I will do whatever academic tricks my administration wants me to do, no matter how repugnant.

I am also a forever-adjunct. My university/college/tech school has decided, “Why buy the full package when classes can be serviced for practically nothing?”

I do not expect sympathy—I have made my own academic bed, my adjunct whoredom sealed. You see, I actually believed my chair when years ago he/she “hinted” that I would likely be promoted to a real job. Good intentions, change of administration, a too-familiar story.

Remember this, adjunct whores:

You are in this alone.

Your full-time colleagues and fellow adjunct whores, who are too busy sucking up, will not help you. We are all too busy looking after Number One.

Love academe, but trust no one, especially administrators.

Until I retire, I shall remain an adjunct whore.


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Calling All Adjunct Whores: Your Horror Story

Details here

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Calling All Adjunct Whores: Your "Fuzzy" and "Warm" Story

Details here

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Tuesday, April 27, 2010

I'm NOT the First Adjunct Whore...

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Surprise, surprise.

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