No Money, Mo Problems

Last week I visited Small Town, Tennessee to find an apartment and meet my new bosses. Based on what I've observed of Small Town so far, the people there really like fried food, country music, and Jesus. Their favorite word is "ma'am," as in "Yes, ma'am," "No, ma'am," and "Would you like that fried, ma'am?"

Based on the people I talked to, Southerners are polite and friendly, and not only take five minutes to answer every single question but also think it's necessary to tell you their entire life story, even if all you said was, "Is there a Starbucks nearby?"

In Chicago, there's a Starbucks on practically every corner. But the people in Small Town apparently don't like coffee as much as fried food, which makes me wonder where they get all their energy. Maybe it's from listening to all that country music.

I was able to rent an apartment that's more than twice the size of my studio in Chicago for more than a hundred dollars less. But nevertheless, I am going to be thousands of dollars in debt due to this move to Tennessee. And this was AFTER I finally paid off all my credit card debt. (Not to mention I already owe thousands of dollars in student loans.)

I have to pay for movers to transport my furniture, and all the moving companies I called apparently have this motto: We overcharge because WE CAN. I could have had the Salvation Army pick up my unwanted furniture, like my fifteen-year-old lumpy mattress and box spring, for free if I had called them a month in advance. But since I only found out I got this job two weeks ago, I now have to spend hundreds of dollars on 1-800-Got-Junk to recycle/get rid of my furniture.

I am required to attend orientation for new employees. The Human Resources department told me they didn't have specific dates set up yet when I called them a week and a half ago. Of course, after I signed my lease, I learned that the orientation would be held three days before my move-in date. So now I have to spend hundreds of dollars on a rental car and a hotel room (I can't change my move-in date), since my parents aren't coming to Tennessee until a few days later. If I don't attend orientation, I won't be able to access any of my benefits (like health insurance) until October.

My parents are loaning me money for the down payment on a car (which is why they're coming to Tennessee for a few days to "help" me move. They're more likely to "help" me have a panic attack, seeing as how when I visited them during Christmas break, I ground my teeth so hard that one of them broke). I will repay them, and I will also be responsible for monthly car payments, car insurance, and gas.

I've also had to spend money on boxes, masking tape, and bubble wrap, and I have to set aside money to tip the movers. (Question: Do I tip the movers when they come to my apartment in Chicago, or after they deliver it in Tennessee? Or do I tip them both times?)

Since I'm getting rid of my old mattress and my broken desk, I have to buy new ones, which will also cost hundreds of dollars. I might not be able to buy those right away, which means I'll be sleeping on the couch for a while and using my desk in my office at school (and I use the word "office" loosely, since it's currently being used as a storeroom and I was informed that they would "probably get around" to cleaning it out by the time school starts).

Since I am a visiting, untenured faculty member, I get absolutely no financial assistance for my moving expenses from my new school. They also think that moving to a new state is "easy-peasy," which is why they want my syllabi for the classes I'll be teaching ASAP.

I know that I should be grateful that I have a job. I am, especially since it was so hard to find one. But I can't help resenting the fact that I've already had to spend a large percentage of my annual salary for this move, and I haven't even gotten paid yet. I thought I could finally quit my website job, but I'll have to work extra hours instead, and excuse me while I go bang my head against the wall.

What about you? Have you ever had financial problems or difficulties with the moving process? How did you deal with them?

Go Fund Yourself

Recently I read an article about a guy who started a gofundme campaign so that he could buy a plane ticket to Florida, where his girlfriend had gone on spring break. He was worried that she would cheat on him during the trip. He even got upset that a swimsuit picture she'd posted online got 200 "likes." (Jealous and insecure, your table is ready.) His campaign was successful; he took the trip to Florida, and his girlfriend didn't think he was possessive AT ALL.

I also read that almost a million dollars has been donated to a gofundme campaign for the owners of Memories Pizza in Indiana, who suffered a huge backlash after one of the proprietors said that he "chose" to be heterosexual and that he believed others "chose" to be homosexual. The owners also said that while they would still serve pizza to gay people, they would not cater a gay wedding.

Who would serve pizza at a wedding? (The only people who would like that are probably the people who don't think it's necessary to wear a shirt when they get married, like the ones I saw on a reality show recently.) I think the owners said that to make it clear that they supported that "religious freedom" act. I thought about the kind, funny, and good people I've met in Chicago, who are gay. None would choose to be homosexual, because why choose an identity that motivates other people to discriminate against you, beat you, or renounce you? While people have a right to practice their own religions, I don't think they should be given thousands of dollars for discriminating against other people who are different from them.

I wrote a blog post about Karyn Bosnak, who asked for money on the Internet (before gofundme even existed) in order to pay her $20,000 credit card bill. Many people responded with money and gifts. At the time I thought it was cool. Countless gofundme campaigns later, I'm not so sure.

I like the idea of strangers helping each other. There are legitimate campaigns out there. For example, I donated a small sum to a campaign for a homeless man who did not want to be separated from his dog, because the dog was all he had left. Both the man and the dog no longer have to live on the streets, thanks to the kindness of strangers.

I've heard of other campaigns where people ask for money for lifesaving surgeries, or they ask for help when they are struggling to support their families. It's great when people show compassion for each other.

I hoped to travel this summer, either to make a second trip to New York or to travel someplace else I've never been, like Boston or Seattle. I need a new laptop, because my current one keeps breaking down. I'd like to move out of my 300-square foot apartment, with its cracked walls and constantly non-functioning shower and fridge. My neighbors leave beer cans in the elevator and steal my magazines, and one especially loud neighbor is either an amateur porn star who streams videos from her apartment or just really loves her boyfriend.

But this year, my health problems (which I'll write more about later) were very costly. Even though my insurance paid for most of my treatment, I was still on the hook for more than a thousand dollars. My student insurance will end once I complete my PhD (which will hopefully be this summer), but I still need health insurance for ongoing treatment. I also owe thousands of dollars in student loans. I have barely enough money to get me through this summer. After that, if I don't find a full-time job, I'll be screwed.

Will I start a gofundme campaign for myself? No. I hated that I even had to sign up for student loans. I worked full-time for as long as I could. I think that some people give gofundme campaigns a bad name, like the guy who started one in order to go to a comic book convention, students who want money to enroll in study abroad programs, and a couple who wanted a vow renewal ceremony.

I think that people should continue helping each other, but everyone has their limit. What about you? Have you ever donated to a gofundme campaign? What do you think of these campaigns?

The Dilemma

At most graduate schools, the PhD candidates are given funding each year. Usually they get a research assistantship or a teaching assistantship, which provides them with free tuition and a small monthly stipend. The funding does not last indefinitely; usually grad students only get funding within a specific time frame.

My funding ran out this past year. I was supposed to finish my PhD this year. Several classmates received offers from prestigious colleges or post-doctoral fellowships. I felt envious of them and ashamed that it was going to take me an extra year to finish my dissertation. 

My department generously offered to extend my funding for one more year, but that meant that I would have to teach again. I had already applied for a loan, which would provide me with just enough money to live on so that I could spend the year working on my dissertation and applying for teaching jobs. 

I was tempted to accept the teaching assistantship instead. After all, it was a very expensive decision. If I took the assistantship, I wouldn't have to take that loan and that meant several years I would NOT be in debt. But on the other hand, it meant that it would be like every other year: I would be spending most of my time teaching and struggling to make time for my graduate work. Not to mention I usually worked a second or even a third job in order to avoid credit card debt and loans, unlike most of my classmates (which is why they finished earlier). Either way, it was a decision that would affect me for the next decade at least (in terms of paying off student debt, that is). 

I pictured myself grading dozens of papers every week. I imagined my professors shaking their head with disapproval and disappointment over my dissertation, which they had done before. I thought of the students who missed six classes in a row, turned in all their assignments late, and then threw temper tantrums when they didn't get A's. I remembered the e-mails I'd received from students who were irate that I didn't immediately respond (which made ME irate).

Recently I taught a particularly difficult class. Every time I finished explaining something to the students, at least one or two hands would shoot up and the students would ask me to repeat everything I just said; it was clear they weren't listening. Other students showed up late multiple times for appointments and then expected me to set aside even more time outside of my office hours. Several people gave vague excuses about "family emergencies" and expected me to make exceptions for them on almost every single assignment. It made me want to scream and scream and scream, and it made me realize that I needed a break from teaching. 

So I turned down the assistantship and took the loan instead. It was a very difficult decision, but for the first time in years I am putting my graduate work first. This is my last chance to redeem myself as a graduate student, and I don't want to ruin it. I HAVE to finish my dissertation this year; I've taken too long already. All these years in graduate school made me feel like I was in limbo; everyone else around me was moving on, getting married, having babies, and climbing the corporate ladder, while I was still a student. I just want to move on with my life and figure out what to do next.

This will be the first year in a long time that I won't be teaching. I'll still have my website job, but I'll spend most of my time at home or at the library, writing my dissertation. I feel sad that I won't be teaching, but to be honest I feel a little relieved, too. It's not just because of that one difficult class. It's because too many of my classes have been like that (though not all of them have been like that, and there have been some genuinely good and bright students). 

What about you? What would you have done if you were in my situation? That is, would you have taken the loan, or would you have taken the teaching assistantship? 

Age Is More Than Just a Number

1. When I was in college, I was innocent and naive enough to believe that my future career as a teacher would be like one of those inspirational teacher movies: some of the students might be difficult at first, but eventually, they would come around; I would inspire them to love literature and writing, like my English teachers inspired me.

Although I have taught many wonderful students and succeeded in inspiring them (and they, in turn, inspired me), there have also been many other students who never came around. In particular I was unprepared for some students' attitude that grades mattered more than learning. Before I started teaching, I didn't realize I'd get many nasty e-mails from students (and occasionally from their parents), demanding that I change their grades. I didn't anticipate the face-to-face confrontations with undergrads who threatened to get me in trouble with my bosses, unless I gave them the grades they wanted. I was shocked at many people's firm belief that if the students failed, it wasn't because of anything the students did wrong; it was the teacher's fault because she or he was a bad teacher (and yes, people have said that to my face).

I grew up (and I grew stronger) when I learned to stop letting them push me around. I learned to stand up for myself. I refused to back down, in spite of all the complaints, excuses, and threats, and I refused to change people's grades. I will admit, though, that some of these encounters left me shaken, angry, and frustrated as a result.

2. When I was in my twenties, I thought I could avoid credit card debt and student loans by working multiple jobs.

I grew up once I realized that even two or three part-time jobs were not necessarily enough to cover all my bills, and working so much often left me feeling exhausted and stressed out as a result. When my hours were cut at the stores where I worked or when I wasn't assigned enough classes, I couldn't earn enough money to pay my bills. As a result, I had to use credit cards (though I only used them for emergencies), and it took me years to pay off those debts (though I did pay them).

I grew up even more once I learned how to clip coupons, buy things on sale, to turn down some (though not all) offers from more affluent friends to go out on expensive outings, and save money.

I also finally broke my vow of avoiding student debt and applied for a small loan, though I was careful to set aside a third of it. That way I can use that amount to help pay off the loan once I complete my degree. I really DIDN'T want to get a loan, but after years of working multiple jobs, I knew I had to give myself a break.

3.When I was younger, I thought that even if I struggled financially as an English teacher, it would be worth it, as long as I loved my job.

I grew up once I realized that a passion for my work did not necessarily make up for all the financial struggles. When I was in high school and college, I didn't realize that I would have to work so many jobs just to make ends meet. I came to understand just how exploited, overworked, and underpaid most teachers are. The only thing that got me through was the fact that I genuinely loved teaching, and I still love it. It's the best job I've ever had, and I hope that I can continue doing it for the rest of my life.

But I know that I can't keep doing this forever. I can't keep working so hard at jobs that pay by the hour (which usually means the pay is extremely low) or accepting teaching jobs that don't provide long-term security or health insurance. I've finally realized that as much as I love teaching, I might have to pursue a different career if I don't find a full-time teaching job. It's SCARY, especially because all these years in academia have made me overqualified and underqualified for most jobs. I HATE the idea that I might not get to teach anymore, but it's a decision that as an adult, I might have to make when the time comes. (I still hope I won't have to make that decision.)

A lot of people claim that age is just a number. I don't agree with that, because who I was ten years ago isn't who I am now. You go through things as you get older that change you and that make you view the world in a different way.

It's my birthday today. I'm thirty-three years old. I still have a lot of growing up to do, but I definitely feel more grown-up now than I did ten years ago. It's not just because of my age; it's largely because of my work experiences, which made me see things from a more mature perspective.

What about you? What made you grow up, and how did that experience differ from what you thought it would be when you were younger?

Life or Debt

As those of you who have been reading my blog for a while know, my graduate funding will run out at the end of this school year. But it will take me another year (at least) to finish my dissertation. I spoke to the placement director in my department, and this person told me that they may be able to give me a few classes to teach next year. But I've been thinking about what my other options are, because at this point, I'm still not sure what I should do.

I work for a website, but it's only part-time. If I want to have enough money to pay rent, buy groceries, and pay for other essentials, I need at least one other job.

I could go back to work in retail. I've worked at a bookstore, a clothing store, and the souvenir store of a major tourist attraction. It would not be difficult to find another job in retail. I'm actually pretty good at convincing people to buy things (even things they don't need). I'm also good at keeping a friendly expression on my face, even though on the inside I may or may not be thinking, How can I help you? How about I help you find the way to the exit, so that you can shop somewhere else?

But working in retail made me very unhappy. The hours are long, the pay is extremely low, and it's very tiring to stand on your feet for eight hours a day. It's also very tiring to listen to  coworkers who think that if you don't fold a stack of sweaters perfectly, the world will end. Also, when the stores I worked for weren't making any money, I wasn't making any money. Everyone's hours were cut more often than not. Therefore, I could never rely on my earnings as a salesgirl.

I could keep teaching at the school where I'm teaching now, if the department offers me more classes next year. Several other grad students who are still working on their dissertations have also continued to teach at the school. I could also go back to working as an adjunct at one of the other schools where I've taught.

But teaching is very time-consuming. After spending hours teaching, grading papers, making lesson plans, and meeting with students to help them with their work and occasionally tell them that they shouldn't write papers like they write text messages, the last thing I want to do is work on my dissertation. What I want to do instead is sleep for several hours, read a good book that doesn't have five hundred footnotes in it, or take a walk around my neighborhood.

I could become a street performer, but I don't really know what I would do. Despite years of piano lessons, the only thing I can remember how to play is "Chopsticks". I can't sing very well without making people cringe and invest in ear plugs. I can't make balloon animals to sell to tourists, because I'm not very good at blowing up balloons. I always end up popping them by accident, which would scare the tourists and then they'd think that all the locals in Chicago are weird.

I've thought about applying for student loans or grants. The good thing about grants is that you don't have to pay anyone back for the money that you get, and it looks good on your resume. But a lot of people apply for those grants, so they're extremely difficult to get. Since I haven't distinguished myself in graduate school, it will be even more difficult to get one. But I'm still going to try.

I talked to people in the financial aid office at my school about applying for a small loan for next year. I also talked to a financial advisor, who gave me some good advice. I was reluctant to consider student loans at first, because in all the years I've been in graduate school, I've never applied for any loans. I have a tuition waiver and a stipend from my teaching assistantship, and I have always worked additional part-time jobs to pay for everything else. I was also raised with the belief that I should never borrow money if I can earn it on my own.

I have a small amount of credit card debt, but I haven't charged anything else and I pay more than the minimum each month. The thought of adding thousands of dollars to the amount of money I currently owe is daunting. Granted, even if I borrow money next year, I won't owe as much as most of my other classmates. They've been living off of student loans since the beginning, and they now have six figure debts. Their choice was not necessarily a bad one, because they were able to devote themselves to their work and succeed as a result. But it will take them decades to pay off those debts, because even though the cast members of reality shows get paid thousands (or millions) of dollars for living by the slogan "Who Needs a Conscience When You Can Be Famous?", educators are lucky if they earn enough money to live on and have a little bit left over to put in the bank.

But even though I am a workaholic, I don't know if I want to keep working so much next year. It's partly because I spent so much time at my other jobs that I haven't done as well in graduate school as I could have; I didn't have as much time to study. And I regret that, but at the same time I really never wanted to have a six figure debt; I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to pay it.

If I applied for a small loan, I wouldn't have to work next year. I could study all day without interruption. I could finally prove to my professors that my work is good enough, and then I would finally feel like I'm good enough. Maybe I wouldn't be so stressed and tired all the time, and maybe I would have time for the other things that are important to me, like fiction writing.

The thought of being in debt for years is scary. But the thought of failing to finish my dissertation and being forced to leave graduate school is even scarier. Even after everything I've been through, I still want to be a college professor.

What about you? How do you feel about student loans and debt in general? If you were in my situation, what would you do?