My Adjunct Whore Story

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First thing you ought to know: overall, my life has not been awful.

I have a great family and have had some impressive professional accomplishments, which, for obvious reasons, I cannot reveal. Suffice to say that I have published some scholarly articles and given awards in my field.

Being an adjunct whore has not diminished those areas of my life, but it has hit my pocketbook and held me back in academe.

Also, I take at least partial responsibility for my current status; I should have taken my career in another direction before it was too late. I could spend the rest of my life lamenting my unfortunate decision, but it is what it is.

See if this sounds at least vaguely familiar.

Ten or fifteen years ago, I was attending a major conference, and I ran into a former colleague, a former adjunct whore who was now unemployed and looking for another adjunct gig. Due to her husband's job, she had moved halfway across the country and was having difficulties finding a job.

At the time, I felt that my college/university was a good employer; adjuncts were given a lot of freedom, in terms of pedagogy, preference in selecting course times and days, and choices in text selection. More importantly, we received support and help if we had difficult students. Back then, colleges and universities were not so "consumer oriented" when it came to retaining students because just about every respectable college and university was on board when it came to maintaining high standards for top grades. Also, it was assumed that college students would be living in modest dorm rooms and eating mystery meat in the cafeteria--none of this blatant posh pandering to spoiled children.

In addition, my student evaluations were decent; the chair did not worry about the occasional disgruntled student. More than that, this chair listened to adjunct suggestions and concerns. Sure, it sucked that we received no benefits or decent pay raises, but there was something to be said for a pleasant workplace with friendly colleagues and a sympathetic chair.

"I wish I would have never left______________," my former colleague said over coffee.

"Yeah, it's a great place to work," I said, beaming. "I'm so fortunate."

Then we got into a discussion about complaining adjuncts and how they "drag" down the department with their negativism. We talked about two individuals in particular, two older women, one long-time adjunct and one fairly new hire. Both had complained of unruly students who misbehaved in class and treated them with disrespect. According to these adjuncts, nothing was being done about their plight.

"M. and S. make their own troubles," I said. "If you do your job in the right way, you have nothing to worry about."

My colleague nodded. We even agreed that tenure was an outdated practice that ought to be banned.

I wasn't about to go to bat for people who couldn't get on board and take control of their classrooms.

They were truly in this alone because the rest of us were not about to "risk" our adjunct capital on two whiners.

Soon, one of the women was fired outright, and the other stayed on, but barely hung on, only to get the ax a few years later while growing too old for the chair's taste.

Two years after that meeting with my former colleague, the climate department changed. My chair stepped down, and the school hired a new one from the outside.

The new chair took an instant dislike to me and a few other older adjuncts, particularly those who dared to ask questions at the mandatory adjunct meetings. Our past chair had welcomed our questions and actually listened to what we had to say. Even if our ideas were not always implemented, we always felt that we had been heard.

The new chair's implicit message soon became clear: "I'll ask for your opinion, but it had better be the right opinion." In short, meetings were held to see who was and wasn't on board with his/her policies, not to elicit true discussion.

It also became clear that he/she preferred adjuncts fresh out of graduate school, young hotties of both sexes, who spent the next several years, coming and going, often giving notice a day before classes were to begin. A small core of "regulars" remained, but we became fragmented and suspicious of each other, long-term friendships cooling and even ending.

We were in this alone, the old camaraderie up in smoke.

Eventually, adjunct meetings became a clusterfuck of nodding yes-women and yes-men, a continuum of the great zipped lip. Staying firmly below the radar became the norm.

At one point, one feisty and ill-advised adjunct even tried to organize an adjunct union, but, by then, the young revolving-door hotties were in the majority and were more interested in getting letters of recommendations for their real upcoming jobs. This rabble-rouser was nearly laughed out of town and, eventually, was out of a job.

So now I'm now the "older" adjunct who must worry about student evaluations and maintaining class decorum without being viewed as the old crotchety adjunct whore who is just plain mean and not fit to teach the "delicate" flowers who populate our classrooms. God help us should we hurt a misbehaving brat's feelings by asking him or her to turn off the GD cell phone or ordering a disruptive asshole out of the classroom. God help us if we punish a plagiarizing cretin by flunking his or her cheating ass.

No doubt, I will soon be called in and given the ax; some bogus reason will be given, but I know for a fact that my age and no-nonsense manner will be the main factors. Yes, it's illegal to discriminate against someone because of age, but adjuncts belong to a special class of workers who are offered contingent contracts as "independent contractors," a contract that binds us to the college/university for the semester but gives them all kinds of loopholes for getting rid of us.

This is why I am in this alone.

We're all in this alone.
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