BY NICOLE BRAUN

Recently, I was hired to teach one class in the spring for a private Catholic university whose representatives told me in multiple interviews that they are a “social justice university.”  In the past couple of years, I have sent out more job applications for teaching positions (and for other work) than you can imagine. (Or maybe you can very easily imagine it, if you are an adjunct.) The pandemic has made things even bleaker for adjuncts because student enrollment is down, so many of us are constantly applying for jobs, looking for work, and competing for crumbs. Like many others across the country, I am constantly stressed about basic survival concerns, like the question of whether I can pay my rent next month. Not that any of this is entirely new.  I have been teaching in higher education for twenty-two years.

I struggled with whether to take the position as it pays so poorly, but as usual, I am in need of work—any work—to pay my rent.

During the interview, the dean told me (proudly and twice) that Any College, USA, was “in the top 10” in Best Value Schools and “in the top 10 in Regional Universities.” ^[2]

I had had no idea, and to be honest, I do not care. I don’t get impressed by things like that.

Before I went to the first interview, I learned that the dean has power to hire or not hire me, and to set my adjunct salary. “We focus heavily on social justice at this college,” he emphasized proudly and repeatedly during the interview.

The dean went on to say that they are an antiracist, critical thinking, feminist, and—he repeated—social justice-oriented university with lots of first-generation students, of whom many are Hispanic. He talked a lot about the students’ expectations for college, saying that first-generation students usually have much higher expectations for college than more traditional “middle class” students.

“Our students are very serious about learning,” he told me, “but they also work multiple jobs outside of being students. Many of them are really stressed out economically—and they are hoping that higher education lifts them out of poverty and economic struggles.  They expect a lot out of their education–-they expect it to give them another way of life.”

He then went into a long, elaborate explanation about my adjunct salary, telling me that it would range somewhere between $2,700 and $3,200 per course. I could not really follow the formula he laid out for me.  At the end of his explanation, he offered me $3,000 for one course. I “accepted” on the spot when he asked me straight up if I would take that amount in the interview. But even in the moment, I was kicking myself. Why didn’t I ask for $3,200? What is my problem? It’s not as if $3,200 isn’t also egregiously low pay–-but I need to pay my rent!

The day before Thanksgiving, after I’d had the time to think about it some more, I wrote him a letter and asked him to reconsider the salary figure, explaining that I had felt put on the spot—and didn’t really understand the elaborate formula that determined that I deserved less than the top salary they offered. I reminded him that I have been teaching for over two decades and have research experience, as well.  I went on to tell him that I will be creating a course from scratch; preparing a course worthy of the students requires tons of reading, work, thought, energy, time, and effort.^[3]  I asked him for the higher figure, the $3,200 instead of the $3,000, explaining to him that while $200 is probably not much for the college, this money makes a big difference to an adjunct, especially to one who is walking dogs on the side.

The tragic irony is, of course, that I am going to be teaching students who are in many ways similar to me when I was in college. Their hopes and dreams are much like the ones I had when I was a single mom in Flint, Michigan, who thought education was my ticket “out.” It was not. I am still living the life my future students hope to escape from.

This “social justice” college is selling elusive hopes and dreams on the backs of adjuncts.

The dean wrote me back. Get a load of this gaslighting:

With regards to your request to alter your agreed-upon salary, it seems you may have received some incorrect information regarding a max adjunct rate.^[4]  During our conversation, I shared the many factors that go into a given candidate’s salary offer—degree attained, experience, course credit value, etc. No two cases are exactly alike. The salary offered to you certainly took your background into account and set up the opportunity for later raises along with the added benefit of accruing tuition remission credits.

We genuinely hope that you will not only be able to honor your agreement to teach Urban Sociology this Spring 2022, but that our working relationship will continue with many more courses in the future. We nonetheless do understand that circumstances sometimes change unexpectedly. If you will not be able to join us this Spring we ask that you let us know in a timely fashion so that we can hire a replacement or, in a worst-case scenario, inform the students already enrolled that the course will be canceled.

 

I will continue to walk dogs through the winter semester to make ends meet. I’ve already received two twenty-five-dollar tips over the weekend from dog sitting. It seems as if people with dogs are more generous than deans at “social justice” universities.

^[1] And what am I going to do about my student loans? That’s a story for another day.

^[2] Their college mission statement states: “[Any College, USA,] improves the human condition through education. We develop and support effective educators who transform ideas and challenges into solutions that impact diverse schools and communities to create a more just and humane world.”

^[3] I could have gone on to add that, on top of the considerable work I would have to do to teach this new course, I would also have to pass a background check that examined my credit score. I’m not sure he would have appreciated the irony.

^[4] Just to underscore the obvious here: this dean is the one who had quoted me the maximum amount!

^[5] Any College, USA, is a private institution that was founded in 1901. It received a ranking in the 2022 edition of Best Colleges in the top 10 in a couple of categories. Its tuition and fees are $35,420.

Nicole Braun has been teaching sociology as an exploited adjunct at numerous colleges for over two decades and is pretty tired in a lot of ways but hopeful for a more socially just world in the very near future.