Jessica Wildfire's Blog, page 468

An Honest Academic Job Letter

Thank you for skimming my desperate plea for a full-time job in your department. I’m still working on my dissertation, but before you trash my application please send me a request for additional materials, so my friends and family don’t think I’m a complete loser. My research interests include the latest words and phrases from journals you read, and I’ve babysat freshmen for five years now. Academic cover letters are supposed to run two full pages, so I apologize in advance for what comes next.

My dissertation goes into a lot of detail about literary theories in vogue right now, and I manage to talk about them in a way that only halfway puts you to sleep. Everything’s already been said about Shakespeare and most talented authors. So I’m focusing on a mix of obscure ones that are hard to read, and some interesting interpretations of movies I’ve watched on loop for months. At night, I cry myself to sleep over a glass of Yellow Tail wine in front of the Netflix drama selections, trying to decide on something to watch.

My teaching philosophy is an extension of my dissertation that my professors made me rewrite 12 times. If there’s a typo anywhere in my cover letter, it’s here. Basically, I try to teach my students how to sound like Ian Malcolm from Jurassic Park. If they can string together chaos theory and feminism in a 12-page paper about Marvel superheroes, I give them an A. If you want, you can just skip this paragraph because there’s a longer description of my teaching in all those other documents you asked for. Most of my students don’t hate me. Sometimes, I can even convince them to follow assignment guidelines.

Academic cover letters don’t let me talk about my hobbies, but I’m going to sneak them in by describing them as service to my institution. I teach yoga, aerobics, and self-defense classes at the university gym. Excuse me, I mean fitness center. Gym sounds so undergraduate. Hopefully, that conjures the image of an attractive young woman you’d like to know better, in a professional way of course.

I’d like to work at your university because of a bunch of things published on your website. Now, here’s a description of three faculty members in your program, to prove this isn’t a generic form letter. I’ve read at least one or two of their articles, and I think they’d make for good drinking buddies. Excuse me, I mean colleagues.

The fact that your university is located in the middle of nowhere doesn’t bother me at all. I’m a newly wed, and we don’t have kids yet. My spouse is perfectly happy working at Target for the rest of his life, and you have one of those. So you don’t need to worry about anyone convincing me not to take your pitiful salary. You could literally promise me room and board in a dorm, and I would accept that offer.

What I’m really looking for is a department that assigns me 3–4 courses and asks me to serve on 3 committees, and pays me enough to I can buy a fairly comfortable chair, which is where I’ll spend most of my time either grading, or writing a book that three dozen other professors will ask their library to buy.

You really don’t think I’m going to finish my dissertation on time, do you? Look at my CV, motherfuckers. I’ve already published part of it as an article in a journal you subscribe to. I uploaded a PDF copy of it like you asked, so you don’t have to look up yourself.

I’ll be spending $1,000 to attend the conference where you plan to interview 10 people in a hotel suite. I’m looking forward a sleepless weekend of job prep and grading, and waiting anxiously in hotel lobbies while caffeine turns my liver into limestone.

Please call me soon. My student loans have started to crest like a gigantic tidal wave. Last week, Sallie Mae sent me a postcard of a woman getting gang-raped in a back alley. The caption read, “See you in 9 months!” If I don’t land a job, I may have to sell one of my kidneys.

You can contact me literally any time, day or night. Send me an email. Text me. Friend me on Facebook. Like my Pinterest page. Follow me on Twitter. Post a note on my LinkedIn page. I’ll even start an Instagram account if you tell me. Please just offer me an interview. Please? Thanks! Now I have to send off about 14 more applications before I fall into my nightly pit of despair and stare longingly at photos from high school, the last time when I felt like I had an actual future. Please call me. Bye.

Teachers, Students, and Guns

Another school shooting just happened. A regular news article would note how many we’ve had this year, or in the last three years. Honestly, I’ve lost count. I’m starting to care less about the broader implications. One person has died so far, and nothing I say or do will restore that life. I’m also less convinced there’s anything in my power to turn things around. Politicians wring their hands, but one breath later they tell us not to blame the NRA, gun manufacturers, or them.

Across the country, politicians and lobbyists are doing everything they can to get more guns into schools and onto college campuses. They argue that more guns will make people safer. They debate the possibility of giving me, a professor, a gun and requiring me to undergo training. They ignore research showing that gun owners are less safe than the general population. Gun rights activists tell me that I’m a coward, or that we liberals just want to strip away everyone’s rights and protections.

Finally, people tell me that gun laws have no impact on the actions of mentally disturbed people. Laws apparently have no meaning.

People have the right to own a gun and keep it in their home if they want, even if it increases their chances of being shot with it at some point. But I should have the right to safety.

I’m not talking about feeling safe. I’m talking about actual evidence and research. When are teachers and students most safe? They’re safe when they have properly trained police conducting patrols and communicating with us about active threats. We’re safe when we have strong doors and effective locks to keep out shooters. We’re safe when we have emergency text notifications, call boxes, and other precautions. If our politicians actually want us to be safe, then they should invest in these resources.

If politicians really cared about my life above all else, they would buy me a Kevlar vest and helmet to wear when shooters come onto campus. I know they aren’t going to, though. Providing all teachers with vests would be expensive, and still wouldn’t guarantee our safety. Giving students that kind of protection would break the state’s budget.

But giving everyone Kevlar sounds just as plausible to me as handing my safety over to an untrained civilian stranger who got past his background checks. Passing a background check means almost nothing about a person’s mental stability or criminal history. Dylann Roof, the Charleston shooter who killed 9 people, was able to legally buy a handgun. The federal background check system simply doesn’t work that well, and few politicians are making an effort to improve it. They’re all too busy trying to pass laws that make buying guns easier.

We need to invest in our local and campus police. What we don’t need is more arrogant jerks toting guns around our schools. Maybe that offends you, but get real. Do you honestly believe that some average Joe or Jane with a concealed weapon is going to protect me from a school shooter? If you own a weapon, do you really think your weekend trips to the shooting range have prepared you to confront an armed and dangerous psychopath, who most likely doesn’t care if he lives or dies?

I’ve read a handful of stories about gun owners saving lives during shooter incidents. Almost every time, the hero had a law enforcement background — either a retired or off duty officer, or someone who’d worked in security. So, show me the stories of when civilian gun owners have saved people from crimes in progress. Where are they? Is it another media conspiracy? If that were a real-world scenario, it would be happening more. Instead, all I seem to read about are shootings where people die.

Imagine you do decide to intervene in an active shooter situation. Almost anything could happen. Odds are, you don’t have law enforcement training. You’re just some guy or gal with a gun. Maybe you happen to have a good aim, when it comes to stationary targets that can’t shoot back. By trying to play hero, you risk getting not only yourself killed, but me and anyone else who happens to be around.

I’m not even sure how you would help if you had a gun. What are you going to do, skulk around campus with your hand on your holster? Guess what? You look like a shooter. If I see you, I’m not going to emerge from my hiding place and ask if you’re a good guy or a bad guy. I’m not going to thank you for protecting us. I’m going to assume you’re the shooter and call the police. Because I plan to stay safe by following a basic plan developed by most universities in response to shooters. (See the end of my post for an example.) There’s only one way for concealed weapons to help: for enough people to own guns that someone will wound or kill the shooter by acting in self defense. That’s a helluva lot of guns to have on campus every single day. We’ve never seen that kind of environment before, and I don’t think we want to know what other problems it could bring along.

Maybe this post will have some modest impact on the discourse, but I doubt it. I’m writing because that’s the only thing left I can do. My politicians don’t listen to me when it comes to gun violence. They line their campaign pockets with NRA money, and then feed everyone manure about how we’d be safer if everyone owned guns. Well, gun sales continue to climb. Gun laws continue to dwindle. Every year, it becomes easier for civilians to own and carry firearms. And yet we’re seeing more shootings than ever.

I’ve tried using that myself, and it just doesn’t fly sometimes!

I’ve tried using that myself, and it just doesn’t fly sometimes!

I’ll go on the date with the short ginger!

I’ll go on the date with the short ginger!

Best Student (and Faculty) Excuses

We’ve come a long way as a society since the days of “my dog ate my homework” or “my grandma died.” The more original the excuse, the better your chances of earning a reprieve. My standards for a good excuse have risen tremendously. At minimum, your car needs to explode. Every semester yields a new batch of excuses for missed deadlines and other screw ups. Sometimes, teachers are the ones who come up with the most entertaining ones. See if you can guess who came up the following — a teacher or a student?

Sorry I missed class! Had the worst case of the flu, took some cold medicine, and basically fell into a coma for 13 hours. My alarm clock didn’t even wake me up. (Teacher.)Accidentally squirted tobacco sauce in my eye at the campus cafeteria. It hurt really bad, and I went to the health center to get checked out. Think I’ll have to miss next class too, because I’ll be shopping for an eye patch because my eye still hurts. (Student.)My water got shut off, and I was completely unable to take a shower. There was no choice for me but to sit on my couch and wait until such a time as when I could properly bathe myself. (Student.)I completely forgot that we were supposed to meet today. It was so strange. This is the first time that’s ever happened to me. It was like my brain left my body, and when it returned class was over. (Teacher.)I’ve been sick all week, and the doctor told me to stay home. I missed my hair appointment, and the only time she could reschedule was during class. It’s been forever since I’ve my hair done, and I already paid for the appointment. (Teacher.)I’m going out of town for two weeks in October. I’ll be in New York, then Toronto, then Paris. I’m sure you understand that traveling is more important than this class. (Teacher, and student.)It was my birthday weekend. Everyone knows you don’t do any work during the 72 hours surrounding your birthday. (Student.)My roommate had a bad cold, and I wanted to bring her some chicken noodle soup and sing “soft kitty” to her. We have a deep friendship that you could never possibly understand. (Teacher.)I’m not gonna lie. I went out partying and stayed up all night. In fact, I think I’m still drunk. (Student, and teacher.)My printer died. Then I went to Kinko’s, and all their copiers were broken. Then I went to another one, and theirs were also broken. So I begged the secretary to let me use their copier, and it’s really slow. That’s why I missed my presentation. You should seriously consider an upgrade. (Me.)

10 Ways to Earn Rate My Professor’s Chili Pepper

We all know what really matters to professors. Not tenure. Not teaching awards. Not salary increases or reduced workloads. We want that chili pepper on Ratemyprofessor.com. If you don’t already know, a pepper beside your name means you’re hot. It’s the most coveted prize in all of academia. You should see us humble brag when that icon appears the first time.

Of course, winning one requires more than physical attraction. You have to cultivate a persona that begs for the pepper. Here’s some tips:

Follow two of your students on social media, so they can see your selfies and talk about them to the rest of the class. Don’t follow all of your students, or they’ll think you’re desperate. You might eventually get fired over that, but the chili pepper never said life was free of risks.Wear your hair up at the beginning of class, and then halfway through let it down and toss your head a little. Ideally, make this move after you’ve blown their minds with a poignant observation about pop culture.Give your students pet names based on baking ingredients and desserts: sugar, honey, cinnamon roll, sweet pie, baby cake, twinkie, you get the idea. The quirkier the names sound, the better.Show up early and eat a piece of fruit as your students trickle in. Pears work very well, and so do peaches and plums. Close your eyes and go mmmm after each bite.Spend the last ten minutes of class talking about sports, local music, and late night television. Let them go early. They’ll love you.Find ways of relating assignments and readings to your personal life, especially your vacation plans. That way, you can talk about how you’ve given up on trying to tan. You’re such a humble person. You keep it real. 100 percent.Make vague allusions to the possibility that you may or may not have suffered from an eating disorder or some other trauma. Your goal is to appear strong, yet vulnerable in some ways, like a CBS heroine.Midway through the semester, invent a problem with a jealous ex-boyfriend or maybe a mentally-unhinged stalker. Indirectly suggest you could use an escort back to your office, you know, just in case something happens. Let them fight over the privilege.Around Thanksgiving, accidentally forget your office clothes at the gym, and show up to teach in your yoga pants. Make a really big deal about it by apologizing and telling everyone you’d never normally wear something like this to campus.In the middle of class, go to the restroom and subtly leave your phone out in plain sight. Nobody will hack it, most likely. Either way, freak out when you come back and say, “Oh God I left my phone out.” Look around suspiciously and then slip the phone back into your pocket, handbag, or whatever. Make them curious about what you keep on there.

Thanks! I’m glad this article is helping people.

Thanks! I’m glad this article is helping people. I definitely feel you on the family front. It’s easy for family members to forget things they did and then wonder why you’re not thrilled to visit with them. That said, we both realize that you can’t just abandon your family. There’s some feeling here that’s between love and obligation.

I like “rename all your conference rooms” the best.

I like “rename all your conference rooms” the best. I’m seeing some of that at my work right now. So nauseating. :D

Students Know Things You Don’t

The best thing a teacher can do is admit they don’t know something. If you can admit that without coming off as insecure or condescending, your students will respect you more. Even better, they’ll learn more.

Think about that. The whole point of higher education is to teach students to think for themselves, to question and challenge authority. And yet many of us professors act so surprised when students challenge ours. Sure, sometimes it stings when a student asks a question or points out a fact that you missed. But guess what? We’re human, and we don’t know everything. Nobody knows everything. Students can and should still teach us.

Our students are adults. They have 18+ years of life experience. Sure, they’ll be naive in different ways. A couple of them can’t seem to figure out alarm clocks or laptop chargers. But for every student like that, there’s five who know advanced statistics or gender theory. In fact, some of them may know more than we do on a particular topic. When that happens, the worst thing a professor can do is try to one-up them.

Watching that is sad. I’ve seen that happen. As a student, I remembered when professors tried to one-up me. When they did that, they made me feel like shit and discouraged me from working harder in their class.

Here’s the bottom line: When a student says something novel or surprising, odds are they’re actually trying to impress their professor. You know what? Act impressed. Why? Because you are. Don’t bury your surprise and then come up with some bullshit excuse to point out a flaw, or say something that “maintains your authority.” Students can see right through that, and it weakens your ethos.

Of course, sometimes a student will genuinely try to upset your balance and challenge you because they don’t like you. The same strategy still applies. One time, I had a gifted student in my grammar and linguistics class who already knew everything in my syllabus. At first, I thought we’d become spirit sisters. Instead, this student went out of her way to show off her knowledge. Let’s say I was explaining something in class to normal people. This girl would sit back and judge, waiting for a moment when I tried to simplify a concept. That’s when she would pounce. “Actually, it’s a little more complicated than that.” So I would let her elaborate.

My insecurities began to rise. I wondered if she was going to turn the class against me, convince them I didn’t know my own subject matter, file a complaint with the chair and get me fired because I hadn’t exposed everyone to a detailed, historical account of pronoun usage in 19th century Europe. Oh, the things professors worry about….

You know what? None of that happened. Of course, I had to let go of my aspiration of forming a deep bond with a student who saw my class as a platform to strut her stuff. That saddened me. She seemed enamored with other professors in the department, and that made me downright jealous. Imaginary me would drop down on her knees and shake her fist at the clouds, yelling, “Why the fuck doesn’t she like me!” But I kept all that inside and just focused on the class as a whole. Of course, I came dangerously close to losing my cool once or twice, but that’s the gift of Asperger’s. Even if I’m boiling inside, my outside looks like Antarctica. So I made it. The other students obviously thought she was a genius, but that didn’t matter. The real point was that everybody got what they came for. The normal people learned about language. The smart gal and her little crew got to feel superior twice a week. Everybody left happy, and better off.

Some professors think their goal is to convince their students they’re a genius. They’re dead wrong. One time, I overheard a professor having a conversation with a student in his office. He said, “You know, Voltaire once said we’re living in the best of all possible universes.”

The student guffawed. “Wow, let me just let that sink in for a minute….” As I walked past, my eyes met the professor’s. Part of me expected a thumbs up. Of course, I knew this guy. He had corrected me on three separate occasions, details so trivial it made me excuse myself to the bathroom where I rolled my eyes, laughed hard, and then engaged in three minutes of deep breathing. By the way, try that sometime. Works wonders at faculty parties.

But 9 times out of 10, students appreciate a classroom that allows them to learn and discuss things they know that others don’t. That’s the whole point of my assignments: go out and learn something about a book, an author, or an idea that the rest of us don’t’ know. Teach it to us. That model seems to work pretty well.

I’ll always remember the best moments with my best professors. They obviously knew a helluva lot about their topics. They led amazing discussions. They taught me a lot I didn’t know. That’s why it made me feel so great when I was able to say or write things that that seemed new to them. When one of these professors said, “I hadn’t thought about that before,” or wrote on my papers, “Didn’t know this! Thank you so much!” that’s how I knew when I was learning. Do that.

Yes, I think you were right to put yourself first in this case.

Yes, I think you were right to put yourself first in this case. I had to do the same thing with my mom. In many ways, it wasn’t selfish. You don’t just put yourself first, but you also enable yourself to care more for other people, form new better relationships, and contribute more to the world.