Letter From the Editor

I have been reading a book
about the history of conversation on and off for the past few
weeks. I may as well tell you
that I always have a stack of
books on my night stand. The
height of that stack can sometimes be terrifying. I pick and choose from among the books
each night. I think college ruined me reading non-fiction books
cover-to-cover. I don’t have to now, and so I usually don’t. I get
them all read, but go back and forth between them. Anyway, I
have found the history of conversation to be one of the most
compelling books I have read in a long time. In essence, the
author argues that the art of conversation is a complex and exacting one. One of the most compelling ideas from the book is
that one enters into a conversation with no preconceived conclusions. It is getting to the conclusion that provides the entertainment. Conversation is all about the importance of listening.

To talk with someone, to try to persuade that person of the
correctness of your opinions, is debate not conversation. I have
for a long time now thought that our country is chock-a-block
full of people ready to debate. People will debate anything, but
when it comes to conversing, I think we Americans have lost
our way, sadly. We are a nation of chatterers, not a nation of
listeners. Furthermore, because conversation has been replaced
by debate, this has resulted in the polarization of our society.
Either you’re with me, or you’re against me. There is no in
between where we converse about the ideas behind our differences.

We took our kids to a rally against the War in Iraq a few
weeks ago. I live in a college town, a bubble of liberalism in a
solidly Midwestern state. As a result, I met friends and acquaintances at the rally, the usual suspects who show up at such events.
Part of the rally was a march to the local Federal Building, where
the names of all of the soldiers killed in the war were being
displayed. We walked and chatted with friends about everything
except politics. We caught up on gossip and enjoyed a beautiful
sunny day. While walking down Main Street, a young man on
the sidewalk looked on in disgust. Then, he started screaming:
“Go Bush. Go Bush. Fuck you. Fuck all of you. Go home.” My
eldest son looked on in shock. Wasn’t everyone against war?

I explained that the man had just as much right to express his
opinions as we who were marching did. That was democracy. I
had a fleeting thought as I watched that man yell. That thought
was to walk over and invite him to join our march, but to express his own opinion. I thought about offering to walk next to
him while he did so. Perhaps if I had not been with my kids I
would have done so. Perhaps not. However, I remember feeling
sad that screaming profanities was what the debate had boiled
down to.

Recently, in Idaho, an adjunct faculty member who made what
were described as “inflammatory” remarks about Republicans
in her English class has been the target of right-wing bloggers
and has received death threats. As ridiculous as it sounds, she is
being persecuted for having voiced an opinion. The faculty member allegedly said, according to a short piece published in The
Chronicle, she favored the “death penalty for Republicans, and
that people who voted for Bush could not read.” Can anyone
tell me how this is more threatening than declaring, in the age of
kings, that “all men were created equal….” I used to tell my
composition students to just imagine George III laughing, guffawing, slapping his knee and, maybe, telling the guy reading
the Declaration of Independence to him to stop joking and just
read what was written…. All men were created equal, indeed.
People who voted for Bush could not read, indeed.

Frankly, I am sure some of the people who voted for George
Bush, as well as some who voted for John Kerry were not the
brightest stars in the heavens. Intelligence is not a prerequisite
for voting (driving or having children) in our country. Citizens
who register may vote. Semantics and motor-voter laws aside,
my point is this: the faculty member referred to above has said
she was trying to stimulate discussion, spark conversation in
her class. She was not doing this; she was trying to get her students to debate, not to converse or discuss with each other. If
this slide into political polarization and reliance on debate in the
place of conversation is ever to be reversed, it will have to begin
within higher education. It is clear, however, that with faculty
members like this one roaming the classrooms, we all may have
to wait quite a while for conversation to make a comeback.

In this issue of the magazine, I hope you will find among the
pieces something to spark a hearty conversation with a colleague.
Matthew Henry Hall’s wonderful cartoon, which lampoons the
“reasons” administrators use to terminate adjunct faculty, is a
great jumping off point for conversations. Matt is hard at work
on another batch of cartoons for the next issue of the magazine,
including “Super Adjunct” panels.

I found Jason Heath while blog hopping. I regularly do Google
searches for blogs written by part-time faculty, as well as blogs
which mention part-time faculty. Jason, a musician, was writing
about his new job as a part-time faculty member. The math he
does will be familiar to many. His frankness about what that
math augurs for part-time faculty, is welcome and refreshing.

Laura Yeager’s piece has an interesting genesis. She emailed
me one day asking if I would be interested in reading an essay
she wanted to write about getting let go from her part-time teaching job. Very soon thereafter, the essay you will read in this
issue of the magazine popped into my email in-box.

Finally, you will find a piece in this issue by Shari Dinkins.
Shari has been writing for Adjunct Advocate for several years,
since she was a part-timer teaching at a college in the San Francisco Bay Area. She has a full-time teaching job now. It was
wonderful to watch her succeed in that arduous process. It’s better
still to print her work.

Please enjoy this issue of Adjunct Advocate. The work of many
bright and talented people went into the production of the magazine. I hope you’ll share it with your colleagues.–P.D. Lesko