Dear Dr. XXXX,
Unfortunately, I was not able to pay the fee on the day I arrived at The XXXX Conference last week. As a low-income adjunct in the SUNY academic system, my experience of conferences is perhaps different than that of other academics. I include this explanation with my $55.00 registration fee not because I think it will make a difference, but because it seems to me that someone should say it and it might as well be me. There are a growing number of us who, despite our educations, our dedication, and our contributions are treated as second class citizens of the academic world. We work without tenure, without unions, and often without health insurance. We are paid less money to teach the same courses our full time peers teach. We often lack access to basics like computers, campus telephones, or office space to do our work and meet with our students. We have no job security and virtually no future in the academic field we passionately pursued as students. However much we love our work, our students, and our discipline, we are regarded as lesser than our tenured colleagues. In fact, we are the disposable workers of an exploitative system that relies on our poorly compensated labor.
Because I am an adjunct a conference represents at best a worry and at worst a hardship rather than an opportunity. I teach four courses a semester and am therefore considered a part-time worker. I do not have health insurance through my work so I must rely on a subsidized health plan. It is not, I will tell you, a good health plan and therefore my health care costs are high. I literally had to consider cancelling healthcare appointments to afford to be a presenter in your conference.
In order to come to your conference, I had to make sure I had child care and then I had to arrange for a ride to XXXX from XXXX. I had to cancel classes which I was loathe to do given the fact that without a union to protect me, I worry about any irregularities in my work schedule and usually work through illness lest I give anyone with power over me cause to complain. My family relies on my income and we could not afford to pay my student loans if I lost my job.
The round trip to XXXX was almost seven hours long. I arrived immediately before my panel presentation and left at its conclusion. I could not afford to pay for a hotel room and therefore could not stay for the dinner. I could not, in fact, stay for any of the conference apart from my own presentation because of a lack of time and funds.
So that’s my experience. It felt a good deal to me like I had to pay you for the privilege of researching and writing a panel presentation, cancelling my classes, and traveling for several hours to arrive on your sprawling campus where I spent the next half hour trying to figure out where I was supposed to be. (Signs would have been helpful.) I then had to turn right around and make the trip in reverse. I left the conference feeling very much like an adjunct. I felt ignored, discounted, unappreciated, and exploited.
I write this not merely to vent feelings of frustration, but because I want my colleagues, whom I value and respect, to see me and to see adjuncts in general. We experience the academic world differently than our full-time colleagues do. We have much to offer, but our lack of resources and our growing numbers are a challenge to a functioning and cooperative scholarly community. Whether we are acknowledged or not, our challenges affect the entire academic community of educators and learners. I do not suspect that our working conditions are ignored by my full-time and tenured colleagues out of malice, but because it is easier to ignore such seemingly intractable problems than to address them. I do not expect a group planning a conference (and I know from experience what an exhausting and frustrating task that can be) to solve the adjunct issue. I just wanted to be a reminder that I am here, that we are here, in an academic system that is not the same as it was, not as good as it can be, and not as fair as it should be. I believe that whenever we can, those of us without privilege must appeal to those with it. I trust other historians and educators as allies and ask you to consider my words as you accept my money.
Monday, September 9, 2013
b>BlackberryJuniper and Sherbet is a blog that I love to read. It is one of those blogs that makes me feel a little as if I have come home and am talking to a dear friend and a little like I'm peeking into the life of someone I admire but will never meet. Sometimes I think of her words days and weeks and months after I've read them because they speak to me so strongly. She doesn't know it, but I carry her words around in my head like my beacon stone.
I was asked to contribute a guest post to Blackberry Juniper and Sherbet. I was honored, but nervous that I'd embarass myself. Perhaps I have. In any case, it is there for those who wish to read it. With my thanks I offer
The Beacon Stone
When you are there, continue reading to see why I love to spend time "over there" with an old friend I've never met.