How to Spot a Dead End Teaching Job
by Nick Capo
I AM STILL in shock. Stunned. Discombobulated. Relieved. This year will be my ninth as an adjunct, but I had a great summer. I feel like I should feel guilty. After eight years at a large eastern research university as a lecturer on part-time, one-year, and multi-year contracts with stints as the Honors Composition and Mentor Program coordinator and as the Assistant and Associate Director of Composition, I have amassed a good teaching record. My Vita lists many, many sections of nine different courses and three different teaching practica; my student evaluations are good, and I have won a college-level teaching award. I have helped dozens of students get into graduate schools or get good jobs in their major field. What I do not yet have is a massive number of significant publications. But when my partner in academe, Beth, accepted a tenure-line job at Illinois College, I met the college’s needs for a sabbatical replacement position. And so–poof! [wave the magic wand]–I am now a visiting assistant professor of English.
It gets better. For the first time in my admittedly short career, I have now witnessed how exceptional college administrators can ethically and diligently discharge their responsibilities. I now know what it feels like to be a member of an unified (well, fairly unified), energetic, committed faculty. All of the staff members I have met, and since we are a small college I have already met many of them, have been friendly and competent. During our faculty conference, our president spoke of a shared determination to preserve this college as a place where none of us felt conflicted about committing our full energy and talents to the college’s mission, and for the first time in nine years, I actually believed in a president’s sincerity and agreed with the characterization of the environment. My experience here has been like a revelation. No other word quite captures the feeling.
I left many good friends behind at my old institution, and because so many people shaped by our large research institutions mysteriously become incapable of imagining a substantive professional life anywhere else but at a similar institution, I know that some were/are hoping for an expression of regret or reassurance (e.g., “Don’t worry; it’s bad here, too). Instead, I am restraining an urge to travel back to their cubicles and overcrowded offices so I can shake them and say, “You must get away from this place.”
Every adjunct deserves the kind of job I have, and with sweat and luck (and hopefully without blood), you might still get one. Let me try to help. Here are the warning signs and identifying characteristics that can help you spot a dead-end institution.
Are the tenured faculty members exempted from teaching at least some of your lower-level courses at least some of the time? Good departments and good institutions do not exempt senior faculty from these courses.
Is the use of part-time faculty increasing, remaining constant or declining at your institution? Do the senior faculty members ignore the existence of the part-time faculty, or do they simultaneously work to limit the use of part-time faculty and improve the working conditions of these faculty members? The answers to these questions reveal the educational philosophy and fiscal logic at the foundation of your institution. Draw your own conclusions.
If the number of part-time lecturers is growing and most are former graduate students from the institution, then you are in the devil’s den. Even the best institutions experience financial hardship, but they will never accept or become comfortable with this business model.
Do the most senior faculty members in your department imbibe a few drinks at faculty gatherings and then pontificate loudly about the size of their merit-pay increases? Are they indifferent to the situation of the other faculty in the department or the institution as a whole? Are they convinced that all is well as long as they get what they have coming to them, or do they actively advocate for shared improvements in faculty and staff working conditions? If the faculty members in your department are particularly discrete, look at your own paycheck. At the minimum, your annual increase should approximately match the rate of inflation plus one percent. If it does not and your teaching has been good, then your department is exploiting you to pay for someone else’s pay increase.
Are you are eligible for professional development or travel money? This will tell you whether your institution has a genuine interest in faculty development and improving the quality of undergraduate education.
Does the institution recognize good service and teaching in a substantive way? One important indicator is whether the institution frequently promotes from within. If part-time adjuncts become full-time adjuncts and then sometimes even tenure-line faculty at your institution, then you are working for an institution that recognizes quality, and will reward loyalty and excellence. If part-timers have tried for years to land one of the full-time openings, but are routinely passed over for newly minted Ph.Ds or MFAs, then you are at an institution governed by cynical careerism.
Consider the profile of your institution that you can generate with the answers to these questions. If you are at a supportive institution, stay the course; your merit will eventually be recognized and your hard work will pay off. If you are at an institution (or institutions) which engage in exploitative practices, then do not despair just yet. Take one more shot at advancement before you leave the institution or the academy, but do so with a strategy and a time limit. (I’d suggest two years.)
First, expand your teaching record however possible. Make sure the relevant people in your department know that you are looking to teach and develop new courses. I received my first full-time position after teaching several sections of technical writing, which at the time I knew relatively little about. However, I met a crucial need for the department, and I eventually developed a curriculum for an advanced course that fascinates me. Some of my former students who now work as technical writers still contact me for advice and to share anecdotes, and because of my ability to work well with students in technical majors, I later was able to pick up an additional upper-level course (helpful for promotions and on the job market) each year.
Teach anything; arrogant elitism is a luxury left to tenured faculty. Second, plan for the long- and the short-terms, but also plan on moving on when you’ve reached your deadline unless you move up to the next level at your institution. Study job postings, and try to cobble together pedagogical experiences and service work that mesh with the profiles for the jobs you want and realistically might get. I was offered my current position at least in part because I spent a semester (often a summer session) for six years working in my university’s Writing Center.
In addition, be nice to everyone (to superiors, peers, staff assistants, and graduate students). This is not sycophancy; this is collegiality and professionalism. Identify the people whose efforts you respect and appreciate at your institution, and make sure that they know you think well of them. Colleges and universities are employers, and like all employers, they screen not only for competency but also for reliability and collegiality. At least five people in my old department went well above and beyond the call of duty for me when I was under consideration for my current position, and their good will was not coincidental.
Finally, remember that the phrase “a good fit” goes both ways. Good luck, and keep the faith. Remember that when you wake up tomorrow morning, you get to teach.
