Dear Administrative Asses Shitting All Over Adjuncts,
I hate you. Viscerally. Sure, if you ever actually invited me to your office (you won’t) I’d be lovely and kiss your ass like it was my job (it kind of is). But don’t make the mistake of thinking it’s genuine. I really, really hate you.
I adjunct in the Humanities, and I fail to comprehend how you people—who often wrote dissertations brimming with empathy and awareness on topics like labor, economic disparities, and social class—are such arrogant, ignorant, ridiculous asses when it comes to real life. You say “We need colleagues, not worker bees.” Oh. Well. I guess what I should be doing then is starving in a box on the street so that I don’t look too much like a drone to you. What is it, exactly, that you fuckwads imagine we should do? You certainly don’t want us to leave academia—that looks like work too, and no work you’re familiar with. In what ways can those who didn’t get a full-time position prove themselves to you kings and queens? I would love to be a colleague; I am much better at being a colleague than whatever the hell it is I’m doing now. You just won’t let me. Do you imagine that we are choosing to be adjuncts because we are no good at collegiality? Really. Where exactly is your vision going wrong? I need to know.You say that our “level of employment is just not decent preparation for the type of faculty we need, someone who will work department-wide and campus-wide.” Well, fuck you. What would be “decent preparation” other than, you know, being allowed to work “campus-wide”? You guys kill me, acting all high and mighty up there, believing somehow that adjuncting has eaten our brains, stolen our ideals, and probably made us smell bad too. God, we’re as bad as those “migrant farm workers,” right? How fucking elitist and inhumane can you possibly be?
And here’s the kicker. You guys will actually say—in writing (though granted on RYS)—that “If you're willing to settle for that in your career, it tells the hiring committee something about you.” Oh. My. Fucking. God. Yes. It does. It tells you that I like to eat occasionally. It tells you that I am my sole supporter, and I can’t go hole up in a library and write for a year. It tells you that I’m not independently wealthy—that yes, though it’s disgusting to consider such details, I do need to work to get by. And it tells you that I’m experienced in and committed to teaching. If it tells you any more than that, you are just fucking schizophrenic.
And all you people—the apologists—with the hand-wringing—“Oh, I would love to hire adjuncts, if only…” or “Oh, I just wish those adorable little adjuncts didn’t have such a rough time…”—fuck you the hardest. You are the only people in a position to change perspectives and practices, and you waste your time sniveling and making pathetic excuses. Y'all can justify it however you want; but don't for one fucking second believe that you're not a bunch of classist fatcats living large at the expense of a lot of broken backs at the bottom.
