May 30: Pencey Prep, Higher Education, 70 Percent, Piece of My Mind

What I want to start telling is the day I left Pencey Prep.  Pencey Prep is this school that's in Agerstown, Pennsylvania.  You probably heard of it.  You've probably seen the ads anyway.  They advertise in about a thousand magazines, always showing some hotshot guy on a horse jumping over a fence.  Like as if all you ever did at Pencey was play polo all the time.  I never even once saw a horse anywhere near the place.  And underneath the guy on the horse's picture, it always says:  "Since 1888 we have been molding boys into splendid, clear-thinking young men."  Strictly for the birds.  They don't do any damn more molding at Pencey than they do at any other school.  And I didn't know anybody there that was splendid and clear-thinking and all.  Maybe two guys.  If that many,  And they probably came to Pencey that way.

Anybody familiar with The Catcher in the Rye knows about Holden's contempt for Pencey Prep and education, in general.  Holden has little patience for the teachers and students at Pencey.  Of course, his attitude has a lot to do with his deteriorating state of mind regarding life, in general.  Holden is depressed.  That's why he's flunking out of Pencey.  That's why he rides the train to New York.  That's why he checks into a hotel instead of going home.  He's at the end of his rope.

I have been a part of higher education for over half my life, as a student and teacher.  I've taught more than a few Holdens during my university career.  Kids who have no interest in learning at all.  And that's alright.  It takes young people a long time to figure life out.  I know it took me a while.

I started out in computer science major as an undergraduate.  Eventually, I started accumulating degrees in English and creative writing.  Today, I have a Master's in fiction writing and an MFA in poetry.  And I have a part-time teaching position at the local university.  That's right.  All of my energy and time has qualified me to be the academic equivalent of a French fry cook a McDonald's.

I'm not complaining.  Much.  I've been very lucky with the university on many levels.  The Department Head is good to me, and I get to teach classes that I love.  Good Books.  Mythology.  Intro to Film.  However, I'm an instructor with a terminal college degree working part-time.  According to an article in The Chronicle of Higher Education, "...some 70 percent of college courses offered are now taught by adjuncts--part-timers who are paid a pittance and have no job security."  And, I will add, no health insurance.  That's a huge number.

Now, those professors privileged enough to be tenured or tenure-track would respond, "Well, go out on the job market and get a tenure-track position at a university."  They know full well the chances of doing that are about as likely as capturing a leprechaun and shaking a pot of gold out of him.  And the tenured response to that statement would be, "Well, then go into another profession.  Find another career."  (I'm not kidding.  I heard one of my tenured colleagues say this.  Out loud.  In a department meeting.)

At my university, the contingent and adjunct faculty are now part of the professors' union.  That doesn't mean the full-timers are throwing us welcome parties.  No.  It means we have a little bit of protection, and the full-timers are nervous as cats.  Perhaps they see our inclusion as the first death rattle of the tenure system.  I don't know.  However, they feel threatened.

And maybe they should.  Instead of trying to make the part-timers' situations more secure and equitable, they have enforced a system of academic slave labor.  Maybe they deserve to feel like Nero fiddling while Rome burns.

That's a piece of Saint Marty's mind.

Be it ever so crumble, there's nothing like tenure