Dear Dean, Department Chair and my Small Town College President (who hit on me before he knew who I was and where I worked),
I quit. I’m done with the lack of parity and lack of respect. I’m done being your dancing monkey for chump change. I’m done with these poor morons who sit in my class and laugh at my half-baked jokes made at their expense. Don’t think I don’t notice the nepotism, favoritism, and outright sexism in your departments. I choose to not be a part of it. When you open your next full-time position (what’ll it be, 2010?) I won’t be there to give a “teaching demonstration” for your self-serving pleasure. The way you all sat there and grinned like Cheshires at me as I tried to get you to think outside of your respective pedagogic boxes was deplorable. Now you act as though it never happened when we pass in the hall, and that is even more painful.
I am sorry I don’t own a pair of testicles. Apparently you have to have them to get any respect in your institution. I would love to teach something other than bonehead classes, but I evidently lack the proper appendage, and furthermore, I am unwilling to affect a badass feministic attitude to fit in.
I leave you this: your students are lost, cynical, and under prepared to be proper human beings. I tried to instill in them a sense of wonder and human-sense. Many of them complained that I didn’t teach more classes at your institution. What could I do but shrug and recommend they take one of my tenured, ego-inflated, stuck-in-the-60s, self-obsessed colleagues? They’ve got job security and an office to hold hours in and money to burn; let them deal with the plagiarists and potheads. I’m out.
I’m off to dress up in a clown suit to twist animal balloons for six-year-olds. I’m sure my current CV will suffice.
A Dejected Idealist