Invitation to Help Develop Grad U Graduate Writing Website

The following found its way to my inbox today. I found it amusing. I thought you might, too:

Dear recent Ph.D.,

In Fall 2010, Dr. Very Important Campus Administrator established a Graduate Writing Task Force to devise a plan to enhance existing graduate writing resources and the quality of graduate student writing. The task force’s recommendations included the creation of a writing resources website that focuses on general resources, but also discipline-specific needs.

Because you were previously selected for Prestigious Graduate Fellowship and thus identified as an outstanding doctoral student who has acquired useful knowledge of the dissertation writing process, the Graduate School invites you to participate in a focus group that will help determine the design and content of the Graduate Writing Resources website. We anticipate convening the focus group sometime in February.

If you are willing and available to serve as a focus group member, please contact me by February 3.

Sincerely,

 Postdoctoral Associate for Graduate Education Administration

Hmmmmm. Well, I guess it isn't exactly a surprise that just because you're a graduate student working on a dissertation you're necessarily a good writer. I can cut the STEM folks some slack in this area. They just need to write well enough to communicate their research. However, while I can't speak for the social sciences, it seems that the primary fields in which writing really matters are the humanities. In the humanities, because your work engages so closely with other written texts, what you have to say (your research) is intimately caught up in how you communicate it to others.

Sorry, I'm rambling. I guess what I'm trying to say is that this seems like campus administrative bloat to me -- another attempt by overpaid campus managers to justify their existence (just reread the job title up there -- couldn't make that shit up if I tried). Such a resource for undergrads makes sense, and many such sites already exist, at Grad U and other institutions. But for graduate students? If you're a STEM person and your writing is so bad people can't understand you, you should hire a tutor and possibly an editor. You deserve to have to pay extra if you're that horrible. If you're in the humanities and you can't write, you probably should drop out long before you finish your diss and hit the job market ... because you will be TOAST. Burn your early diss drafts and maybe give business school a shot.

Maybe I'm being overly harsh and judgmental. Why not help graduate students? A website of writing resources that targets dissertation writing could be just the support some poor struggling ABD needs to get through to the end.

Except ... did it occur to Dr. Very Important Campus Administrator that, since I haven't adjuncted at Grad U in a year, I might have some other job, like, off campus and during normal business hours? How in the world would I be "available" to commute an hour each way for a one-hour focus group? And I should do this, even if I were still adjuncting or otherwise working on campus, as a form of "service," I suppose??

Hey, I got news for you, you high level college administrator types, "service" only counts if you're on the tenure track. Can we work on converting some of those adjunct positions maybe? In my old department, adjuncts outnumber tenure-track faculty 2 to 1. If you could do that and pay me, oh, roughly what I'm currently earning as a freakin' secretary, and offer, maybe, if not tenure, at least multi-year renewable contracts so I'd have some job security, I might consider coming back and doing for a living what you are here acknowledging I'm very good at.

Then I'd be happy to participate in your focus group ...

I Taught an SAT Prep Class Last Night

I know. I know. Technically, it's adjuncting, since the class is run through a community college, but I teach it at a high school and the pay works a little differently. There's no grading and no prep (since I've done the same class 100 times in the past and the curriculum doesn't change), and so it's a pretty decent on-the-side wage for just showing up, giving practice tests, explaining answers, going over strategies, and going home -- forgetting all about teh kiddies until teh next class. And I must be doing something right, because their scores always go up.

Though, why their parents subject some of them to this torture -- and pay for it to boot -- is beyond me. These are good little suburban kids. They're well-behaved and totally freaked out that their already relatively good scores aren't good enough, yet they are bored shitless by the test itself. As much as I think the standardized testing industry is a ripoff and that the tests themselves don't necessarily predict all that well how well some kids will (or won't) do in a college environment, there's something to be said about curiosity for curiosity's sake and engagement with challenges. Back when I took the SAT, I actually WANTED to know what all the words meant (I couldn't sleep at night if I didn't look them up!), and I'd get into the readings in spite of myself. And I didn't even study that much, just flipped through a book after my other homework was done. I certainly NEVER would have paid money (nor would my parents have) to have somebody tell me things like "look for the definition of the word you're trying to find in the surrounding context" and "use process of elimination to narrow down your choices."

Shouldn't these things be obvious to college-bound high school juniors and seniors who have attended reasonably "good" schools and earned reasonably good grades?

Well, on the one hand, I'm happy to get them up to speed, but, on the other, aren't curiosity and engagement the qualities we'd like to see in college students rather than the regurgitation of test-taking strategies they've acquired in expensive prep classes?

Seems to me that priorities all up and down academe's spectrum are screwed up.

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But you know what? I miss being in a classroom. I mean, not enough to go back to adjuncting or the academic job market or the culture of denial, delusion, and bullshit that surrounds it. But I do miss that environment. A classroom. It's a place where your purpose, in theory at least, is to think freely, to express yourself freely, to learn, to explore, to dream, to aspire, to discover, to grow, to grow up, to expand, to take risks, to push your limits ... maybe even to evolve into your humanity.

Maybe I'm being too idealistic (feel free to throw up a little in your mouth), but I've never said here or anywhere else that I didn't believe in the value or importance of an education. I just think something has gone very, very wrong with our system. I don't know how or why it went wrong, and I don't know how to fix it. But it will be a scary world 100 years from now -- if we don't destroy ourselves first -- if we can't figure out how.

WTF Has Graduate School Come To?

Literally, just as I was about to begin a post about the "band camp" adventure I am about to embark upon this weekend (you'll have to wait for that!), Random Guy wanders purposefully into the office here at Think Tank and, without saying hello or introducing himself or anything, walks over to our wall of publications and starts looking through them.

Me: "Excuse me. Hi there. Can we help you with something?"

Random Guy: "This is Think Tank, isn't it? I am doing some research and someone told me you had some publications that would be useful."

Me, looking over at Coworker with mild puzzlement, "Yes, this is Think Tank. What is the subject of your research? Perhaps we can help you find what you're looking for."

Random Guy: "I'm a master's student, and I'm writing a paper for a graduate course I'm taking on Policy X. Somebody told me you guys had done some work on Policy X."

To myself, I am wondering if Random Guy has tried the library yet. Or, if that's too much trouble, a simple Google search? A Google search of Policy X would have brought up Think Tank pieces, as would, more directly, a search of Think Tank's very own website. I stifle something resembling a laugh and clear my throat.

Random Guy, rifling through our materials, clearly not finding what he's looking for: "Did you say something?"

Me: "Excuse me ... I don't think we have any of our publications on Policy X out on the shelves at this time. Have you been to our website?"

Coworker: "You know, we do more work on Policy Y at this office, which is why there's nothing on Policy X on the shelves, but recent Ph.D. is right. If you go to our website and search Policy X, you'll find a number of publications that will be of interest."

Random Guy, scribbling furiously on a notepad: "OK, thanks. Where do I find your website?"

Me, stifling something caught in my throat again, something large: "Ahhhem, you'll find us at www.ThinkTank.org."

Random Guy: "Oh, OK. Thanks. Are there any particular publications you recommend? Or authors?"

At this point, I remain polite but do not even try to disguise my mystification at Random Guy's approach to graduate level "research." What, am I supposed to do it for him?

Me: "Well, there's Supreme Expert on Policy X. He's done some work for Think Tank. You'll find his work on our site, but he also has his own site with more materials on Policy X, which you can find if you Google his name."

Random Guy stops scribbling and looks at me blankly.

Me, spelling it out for him: "That is, his name is spelled S U P R E M E   E X P E R T   O N  P O L I C Y  X."

Random Guy scribbles that down and then asks: "Do you have any general information about Think Tank? Any pamphlets that describe what you do?"

Me, picking up one such item from the shelf right in front of Random Guy: "Yes, here you are. This tells all about Think Tank and the work we do, and there's more information on our website, too."

Random Guy, heading for the door: "Thanks ... "

Me: "Good luck with your paper!"

*     *     *     *     *

Was Random Guy actually a graduate student? I hope not. Given our proximity to street traffic, neighborhood oddballs, and the occasional policy nutjob who wanders in, Random Guy's clueless strangeness is far from the strangest behavior I've witnessed from a visitor. That prize goes to Barefoot Mumbling Guy, who was convinced the baristas at Starbucks down the block wanted to give him AIDS and wanted to use our phone to let his brother know. (You betcha that warranted some Lysol!) And, likewise, people that know who we are will sometimes stop by to say hello and tell us they think we're doing a good job. Sometimes they ask for publications, too, usually more general things we always keep around.

*     *     *     *     *

So, yes, I really do hope Random Guy was just some random guy who wanted to know more about Policy X, had heard something about Think Tank, and simply wasn't that educated or otherwise familiar with ordinary research methods but thought we'd respect him more if he said he was "doing graduate research." Because ... really? You know as well as I do that graduate school isn't a meritocracy anymore, not anymore than academe itself, but we would like to believe there are at least SOME standards, no?

Via

Blast from the Past

Saw one of my charter high school students on the subway today. I taught 11th and 12th grade there before starting grad school.

Kid used to sit in class and draw. And draw and draw. Never paid much attention but was otherwise a nice kid.

Former student: "Wow! Ms. recent Ph.D! Nice to see you! Are you still teaching?"

Me: "No. I left Charter School and taught at Grad U for awhile, but it didn't work out. I work at a think tank now. What are you doing these days?"

Former student: "I'm a freelance artist and graphic designer."

Me: "That's great!"

Former student, who seemed both happy with hir life and happy to see me, is older now than I was when I started teaching at Charter School.

The most distinct memory I have of this student involves an incident with hir and another calling each other "motherfucker" in class. They wouldn't stop, and so I told them they had to look up the word and copy down the definition -- 25 times. "Is that what you really meant to call each other?" I asked.

No, of course not, but reaching that conclusion was very dramatic and difficult, involving a trip to the principal's office and detention.

I'm glad ze is doing well now, leading a normal adult life.

Would that us postacademics, especially those currently unemployed or adjuncting, will end up doing at least as well as our students in the not too distant future

Three Blogs for 2012 (and Some Dead Turkeys and a Rat, Too)

I have a million things on my mind but few fit for expression here. I don't feel like doing a banal New Year's "Goodbye 2011, Hello 2012" post. The rest of the blog already tells the 2011 story. Go back and read the posts you missed if you want a retrospective. And 2012 is still anybody's guess. I also tried to do an entertaining review of Christmas dinner with the Tea Party Branch of the Family of Peaches, but I ended up on an angry vegan rampage with nothing to show for it but pictures of factory farmed turkeys (Ha! You get those anyway!):

But lest I further spoil your appetite and until I come upon thoughts of my own more fit for blogging, go check out, if you haven't already, new postacademic blogs by:

Currer Bell at Project Reinvention 2012 and WTF have I done with my life at Unemployed PhD for Hire. Both add to the growing chorus of academics -- for a host of excellent reasons -- who are beginning to walk away.

Also, I stumbled on Notes from Babel today, which I recommend visiting if you love words like I do. Although the author is a conservative and the political posts are distasteful (yet thoughtful), the language posts illustrate that just because we might disagree about what's good policy doesn't mean we can't wholeheartedly agree about what's good English. I was poking around the Internet to see if someone else might have an explanation for why my brain dead, 5:00 PM self found the phrase "yeoman's work" out of place in a Think Tank "annual report," and this post nails it. Although the author appears to be migrating here (and it is unclear if he will continue writing about language), go read this post and this post at the very least.What was it 100 Reasons NOT to Go to Graduate School said waaaaaaaay back at the beginning about the smart people being somewhere else?

*     *     *     *     *

And, well, this is just a cute little something in case you need something to make yourself feel better about eating dead turkeys:

Confession

About a year ago, at the end of fall semester 2010, I saw my adviser for the last time. I gave hir a nicely bound copy of my dissertation. Ze gave me a copy of hir recently published new book.

I have not read the book yet. No, not even skimmed the first chapter.

Now, to be clear, I had and still have a lot of respect for this professor. I like the way ze writes. Professor colleagues have described hir as someone "incapable of writing badly." I agree. Also, I chose to work with hir because I thought hir scholarship had more substance and less shit than ... the norm in my field.

So why have I not yet read the book? Two possible reasons come to mind:

1. I have subconsciously decided that academe, even at its best, is full of shit and not worth my time.

2. I have worked hard at distancing myself from something I once cared about a great deal over the last year and resist the danger of genuinely engaging as a mode of postacademic self-preservation.

Probably, it's some combination of the two.

My Take on Academic Conferences

UPDATE: Apparently, according to this IHE article, my experience is not at all uncommon. But if you're reading this blog, you probably knew that already -- probably from your own "beer and circuses" conference experiences. And then there's this, too. How timely!

A few recent posts around the blogosphere, such as here and here, have exposed academic conferences for the expensive charades they often are. While my experiences differ somewhat from what others have written, I don't really disagree with their assessment. Here are some reasons why the conference I've been invited to and will present at this spring will most likely be my last:

Conferences really are too damned expensive to be paying for out-of-pocket, most especially if you are an underpaid graduate student or adjunct, since they are, for all practical purposes, "required" for furthering your academic career.
Didn't you just throw up a little in your mouth when I said "furthering your academic career"? Of course you did! In all seriousness, the only reason I participated in as many conferences as I did as a graduate student was I had funding. My department had a policy about allotting X dollars to each graduate student for X number of years to attend conferences IF AND ONLY IF you were presenting a paper. So, I presented a bunch of papers and got funding. When this source ran dry, I applied for outside travel grants and got them.

When I think about it in retrospect, what a waste! Providing travel funds to graduate students allowed the department to pat itself on the back for "supporting" us with what must have essentially been a mere drop in their budgetary bucket, certainly MUCH less than paying us a fair wage for teaching, while at the same time, in practical terms doing absolutely NOTHING to further our "careers." But I never would have gone without that "support," so I suppose I should be grateful, right? Right.

I will be paying for this upcoming conference out-of-pocket. Not a big deal, really. I can afford my own plane ticket and room, eat decent meals, and even buy myself a few drinks without draining my bank account. But ... if I had to absorb this expense every year, more than once a year ... on an adjunct's salary? Even an assistant prof's salary?? You've got to be kidding. What would be the point, if not "furthering your career"? Intellectual development? Yeah. I just threw up in my mouth a little more ...

Conference papers can be quite good but mostly are quite bad ... and what's the point anyway?
I've heard some astonishingly good papers over the years, papers that entertained, papers that made me think in ways I'd never thought before, papers that set my brain on fire through the sheer power and play of language. Papers that just plain blew my mind. But ... a lot of papers put me to sleep, too. More often than not, conference papers are less than brilliant.

Personally, I've been on both sides of the good/bad paper divide. I know well the time and effort it takes to write a paper that puts people on the edges of their chairs, a paper praised by a leading scholar in your field, a paper that leads to a publication. All of those things have happened to me. But I've also pulled papers out of my ass the night before I left town for the conference. Those papers were terrible. No doubt I put a few people to sleep. No doubt a few sensitive souls were embarrassed on my behalf.

My point, though, is this: What's the difference? Nobody cares if you read a boring paper. They'd just as soon sleep or surreptitiously pull out their laptops and work on their own papers anyway, pretending they're taking notes. On the other hand, if you read a brilliant paper, you'll certainly feel better about yourself ... you'll receive praise and possibly publication invitations. But none of this will lead to a job in academe. Simply going to "share ideas" may leave you intellectually enriched (wait, I think I just threw up a little in my mouth again!!), but you won't be able to appreciate your intellectual enrichment properly because you'll also be just plain broke.

Social events at conferences bring out the worst in the type of socially challenged people one often finds among academics.
I usually hide out in my hotel room and avoid these things like the plague. At the last conference I attended, I made the mistake of going to one. There was an open bar. Actually several. On my third drink, I found myself in a conversation with the chair of one panel I had presented on and a fellow presenter from my other panel (yes, I presented on two panels at the same conference and was loopy with the excitement of it all ... which is why I went to the reception ...). So, I'm talking to these people, and, as the alcoholic fog begins to clear, I realize that BOTH of them are A) drunker than I am and B) hitting on me. WTF?!? And, as if that weren't awkward enough, one is a man and the other a woman, and they ARE TRYING TO GET RID OF EACH OTHER so as to have my undivided attention. And (!!?) just as this is occurring to me, to my horror, I also realize a member of my committee (this is pre-defense, mind you), possibly drunker than all of us, has been watching the entire spectacle for god only knows how long. You better believe I excused myself and got the f#$k away from there as fast as I possibly could.

Hopefully, at the upcoming conference, I will have the sense to remind myself of this travesty and avoid similar situations. But, then again, who cares? Since I am no longer under the delusion that such "networking" will further my career, why not enjoy the free booze? Lecherous colleagues and leering committee members be damned.

*     *     *     *     *

In all seriousness, I will do my best to write a "good" paper rather than one that puts people to sleep, and paying my own way for once will help me better appreciate why this will likely be my last conference.

If you're still having conference envy, want a good laugh, and haven't read this book yet, I highly recommend it.