I am not a fan of meetings. In my former life, as an administrator, meetings were a staple. They took two different forms; the first were staff meetings. These were small, mostly consisting of colleagues in the department. They could be useful (not usually) or a waste of time (meaning just boring, although occasionally tense and even, at rare times, a little exciting).
The second type of meeting is known as the conference. This type generally involves travel, and includes lunch, which is often the only perk, but can be a decent one. Long conferences involve other social time (with a cash bar, public funds are well spent on plane tickets and taxi rides but not on booze), and of course dinner, which is never any good and the price is too high - sitting through a keynote speaker.
I've used this description enough in the years of my freedom (by this I mean I now don't have to attend conferences) that it is almost tired - but it still remains apt. Five years ago I vowed never again to sit through another spring mix with raspberry vinaigrette and pasty chicken a la Marriot accompanied by a presentation on the styles of learning or transition to college or the nuances of Regents' standards or online learning transforming the galaxy or the sensuality of math. Sorry folks, cell phones ringing ain't a learning style, freshman will always party too much, even Commissioner Mills couldn't explain those nuances, transformation is no match for the academic galaxy, and math is not sexy.
Anyway, now that I am adjunct, forget conferences, I don't even have to go to department meetings. I get invited about once per semester, always to the last one, which includes a free lunch, and a minor speech that consists mostly of "thanks." Anyway, when food is involved, my price is fairly low. And, I usually feel pretty charitable at the semester's end, and this being the fall semester, festive over the holidays besides.
So, I went. The chair invited me to share on two subjects, (1) upcoming spring enrollment and (2) the program I took on last spring. So, (1) resulted in lots of faculty praise, especially from the not-yet-tenured; (2) resulted in me giving a brief history, interrupted when I got to the part about the graduate assistants who work on the two undergraduate courses with the question: "where do they come from?" followed by my explanation...and then a long tirade (not really related to my answer) from this German (not German-American) recently tenured faculty member about how indefensible, low quality and just generally awful the courses are. It was probably not intended as personal criticism for my efforts, but due to his less than warm and fuzzy demeanor (OK, that's an understatement, it was downright offensive, and if I was a man it almost would've warranted a punch...make that if I was a man without a PhD) it sure did seem like it...and it resulted in my feeling that I was on the defensive, even if I am an unwilling, and so weak, defender. My situation was not helped by the fact that I was in day two of a head cold, and I am an awful patient.
Of course his outburst sparked much discomfort at the table: the chair was nervous and embarrassed; the young faculty members sat frozen, staring at me with sympathetic eyes; one or two others were doodling in notepads, perhaps bored, or anyway they seemed not to be paying much attention; another parolee from my former place of employment and the retired former superintendent of schools turned faculty member were visibly irritated. The stage had been set; a discussion followed about the awful courses, and the concerns of the faculty. A few questions were directed at me, which I clumsily answered. That was the only time I had any chance to get to what I had intended to be the bulk of my remarks, about the good things in the courses, and the changes I have made since assuming this disaster (um, challenge). Sadly, I don't think I did a good job of explaining any of that.
Suddenly, my former dissertation chair came awake - up until this point, he had been among the bored, though not doodling - and said, in that testy way he sometimes exhibits, "I motion that we make a resolution [or some such word] to recommend to the Dean that she create a committee to investigate the program and these courses" and then the German guy snapped "I second."
I was floored, and the reaction at the table was electric. In administration, such outbursts are less common, unless the audience is tiny. Years ago, I saw a program on PBS during a fund drive. It was by a funny motivational speaker named Loretta LaRouche. She was describing uptight people; she said they have to hold a quarter in their butts at all times, so this is why they are so stiff and cannot express genuine emotion. That seems like a good description of what happens at administrator meetings. It isn't OK to get mad, or laugh too much, or be openly sad, or uninhibited, but my guess is that irrational behavior is the normal atmosphere of faculty meetings - though I don't know really. It is a new role for me, and this is only about the fifth time I have attended. But judging from the "literature," college faculty behave this way. (I am remembering, years ago I made a presentation at a high school meeting, where the reaction was similar. A few sentences into my remarks, a wild-haired guy jumped up and yelled, "I object to having to attend this meeting" and after several minutes of various people shouting, over half the attendees stormed out. Maybe it's me?)
I knew I had to do something, or lose it. I leaned forward and summoned as much assertiveness as I am able, without slipping into rage mode, and said "you can do whatever you want, but it wasn't my intention to spark the department to take some action on this - I was just sharing information - but I report to the Dean's office on this, and I feel I have to brief the associate dean on what happens here. I do not want to create the impression that I came to this meeting to complain about problems in the courses that somehow caused you to make this recommendation."
The desired result was better than I expected. A professor who is shared with another department said, "does anyone want to object to the motion?" and the fellow parolee said, yes, he did, followed by the former super. My former dissertation chair withdrew the motion, and instead they decided that the department chair would (reluctantly on his part, I think, though he was mostly taking notes and not saying a lot) recommend it for the agenda of a chair's meeting instead.
At this point, I had changed into my alter ego, from professional circumspect best to irreverent, borderline sarcastic. That was probably ill-advised, but it is my biggest reason for liking being a nearly invisible adjunct - unlike all others present, I am free, I do not play the game, I already cashed in, and I don't have to sit through these meetings once a month.
Afterwards, the German guy made a point of walking with me to the luncheon. I thought maybe - fantastically - unbelievably - he was going to apologize, though, being married to a watered-down 3/4 German-American I should have known that was wishful thinking. He was pleasant enough, in his cold way. I figured maybe he was going to at least bring it up in some way. But, he did not. Instead he peppered me with things about my other class. Later I realized it was under the ruse of being interested in online classes, but I suspect his real interest is somehow calling into question my competence.
At the luncheon, I sat with the other parolee, two new faculty members, the secretary who runs the department, and a professor who has now retired. Strangely, the retiree immediately asked me about the program I took over, and I responded, briefly, but much more in the way I had hoped to in the departmental meeting. The conversation centered around the campus presidential search, latkas (they were on the menu), the retiree's upcoming trip to somewhere exotic, one of the youngster's law student boyfriend, and the secretary's athletically amazing daughter (now a high school senior and college-bound soccer champ). But there was a bit of palpable tension surrounding me.
I left to go sew up one of the low quality, indefensible, just plain awful classes - it was about to be over for the semester, and on the way I resolved to blow both the meeting and the luncheon off at the end of next semester.
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