Us vs. Them

Something happened recently that made me think that it might be better not to befriend people that I work with. It also made me wish that I could get away with carrying a light saber to work, but I think that seeing me chase my colleagues across campus with it just might negatively affect my students' opinions of me.

Even though my department originally told me that I could stay in my position for up to three years, maybe even a fourth year, without having to reapply, they recently told me that due to a change in policy, I would have to reapply for my job, which included an interview with a search committee from my department.

When you're untenured like I am, you don't get a lot of say in what happens to you, but it's hard not to feel jealous (and a tad resentful) of tenured professors. They get teaching assistants to grade papers and hold office hours for them, so that the professors can focus on their research. They teach fewer, smaller classes that focus on their specializations. Untenured faculty members like me, on the other hand, end up drinking so much coffee that we end up understanding what squirrels are saying, just so we can stay awake long enough to grade a hundred papers (or more) at a time. We are expected just to squeeze in research whenever we can, and we don't get funding to go to conferences. And in academia, the best way to get ahead is to do (and publish) research.

Whenever the tenured professors shake their heads and say they're sorry about how I've been treated, I always shrug and say, "It's okay! I understand!" But my real reaction is more like this:



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When I found out that they were making my class sizes significantly bigger but not paying me more, my secret reaction was like this:
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But of course, I can't express how I truly feel to them. As an untenured faculty member, my status here is not secure and I can't say things like, "STOP THE MADNESS!" or "No, I don't want to bring anything to the office potluck because you don't pay me enough to bring anything other than peanut butter sandwiches. And those are all for ME."

In addition to re-applying for my current job, I also applied for a promotion, albeit for an untenured position, but still one with better pay than what I earn now. A friend of mine was on the search committee for that one.

Work Friend had been posting about the job search on Facebook recently, and they mentioned doing interviews for that promotion that I applied for. I was not called in for an interview, so that's how I knew without being told otherwise that I'd been rejected for that job.

I asked Work Friend if they were doing interviews for my current job soon, and I got an e-mail saying that they couldn't talk about it. I understood, yet I resented this person's tone, as if they assumed I was trying to get them to do something unethical. I didn't ask them why I'd been rejected for a promotion, who was being considered for the job, or how I could increase my chances of getting rehired for next year. I knew THAT would be unethical. I also wondered why, if Work Friend claimed they couldn't talk about it, it was okay for that person to post details about it on Facebook to people who weren't in our department and also make jokes about the people who were applying for the job.

I especially resented the jokes because I was one of those people. I think it's easy for tenured professors to forget about how difficult it is to be untenured and how you have to basically grovel and scrounge for work every year. It's easy to forget that not everyone has to move around from school to school every couple years. It's easy not to know what it's like to have to work two (or three) jobs. But that doesn't mean it's okay to be insensitive to what untenured teachers are going through. Not all tenured professors are like this, of course. But at that moment, it kind of felt like Work Friend was.

Although I understand that maybe I hadn't earned a promotion yet, I must admit that the whole situation did change my perspective of Work Friend a little bit. From now on, I'm not going to talk about work with this person at all; that way, I'm less likely to end up chasing them across campus with a light saber. (But if Work Friend makes fun of job applicants like me again, all bets are off.)

What about you? Do you think that making friends with colleagues who are in a position of authority over you is a good idea, or has it ever made things awkward for you?

Old Friends, Googling, and Mug Shots

Recently, I received an e-mail from an old friend from high school. I hadn't seen or spoken to her in person in almost twenty years (God, that makes me want to immediately apply anti-aging cream to my face). We'd exchanged e-mails for a while after graduation, and then we lost touch. She must have Googled my name because she sent the e-mail to my work address (there's a picture and profile of me on my school's website).

The message was brief and didn't really reveal anything about her life. Ordinarily, I would have e-mailed her back. When I joined Facebook, I received (and accepted) multiple friend requests from old high school friends and classmates, including people I barely talked to when we were teenagers. But this time, it was different.

When I didn't respond, she sent another e-mail a couple days later saying that she "wouldn't bother me anymore" but that she viewed me as one of her best friends. She also mentioned a few sad things that had happened in her life, which made me feel like she was trying to make me feel guilty for not responding.

She clearly has a selective memory in regards to our friendship. We were friends, but she spent much less time with me once she met her boyfriend, who came home from college almost every weekend to see her. I was only fifteen at the time, but even I could tell that it was unhealthy to let your life revolve around just one person. Our lives went in opposite directions after high school. While I moved away to attend college, earn my master's degree and PhD, and become a teacher, she married her boyfriend soon after high school and had children.

Why didn't I write back? I won't go into all the details, but let's just say that before I joined Facebook, I did a Google search of her and some other old friends, because I was curious about how they were doing. I found the usual information: their LinkedIn pages, wedding websites, pictures of their children, etc. When I Googled Old Friend's name, I found her mug shots (and that's right, I mean mug shots as in plural), as well as her details about her criminal record.

What I found shocked and scared me. I couldn't believe that the shy person I'd once been friends with would even be capable of committing crimes like that. She's not in prison now, though she did spend a little time in jail.

I wasn't sure about whether or not to respond to her e-mail at first. What was I supposed to say? "Hi, how are you? I mean apart from all the felonies?"

She still lives in the same town where we grew up, and most of the people there have steered clear of her, due to the damage caused by her actions. I suspected that she must be pretty lonely if she's seeking me out after all this time. But that still wasn't enough to motivate me to e-mail her back.

Another friend suggested that I send her one e-mail back and say that I didn't feel comfortable reconnecting, given her circumstances. But I thought that might hurt her feelings even more.

Part of me thinks that I should feel sorry for her, but I feel more pity for the people who she hurt. I feel angry at her for doing those things. She had all these options, and she chose the worst one. I know that I shouldn't judge her, especially since I don't know all the details of her life. But it's hard not to, given the circumstances.

What about you? Have you ever had a friend or acquaintance with a troubled past try to reconnect with you? What did you do, or what would you do?

A Liberal in a Town Full of Trump Supporters

Small Town Local #1: I think President Trump has the right idea! I want to shake hands with that man!

Me:




Small Town Local #2: If people are poor, it's because they don't work hard enough.

Me:



Almost two years ago, I went from living in a big city where drag queens read stories to children in public libraries to a small town where many people think that homosexuality is a "choice". It was definitely a culture shock.

Although I've become fond of several of my students, sometimes listening to some of them is like listening to a panel of Fox News correspondents. Every time I see one of them wearing a Make America Great Again hat or one of the other locals drive around town in a pickup truck with a giant Confederate flag flying from the back, I have to bite my tongue to keep from screaming.

Yes, it's America, and they're entitled to their beliefs. And I have to be very careful not to become one of those professors who use their classrooms as political soapboxes. But it isn't easy to live in a town where a lot of people think that Hillary Clinton should be "locked up," shake their heads over "fake news", and yell racial slurs at minorities from their truck windows.

I'll be the first to admit that not all of the people in Small Town are like this, and fortunately, I haven't heard any of my students say racial slurs (although one of my students, who is from another country, confided in me that other students from other classes ridiculed him and laughed at him because of his accent when he tried to talk to them).

I'll also admit that there are advantages to small town life, such as the fact that I'm far less likely to get body slammed for my wallet or for no reason at all (both of which did happen to me in the city I lived in previously), and people are generally friendlier here.

I'll also admit that I'm not completely liberal, partly due to certain liberals whose behavior is often as intolerant as some of the Trump supporters I've met, like the ones who try to prevent controversial people from speaking at colleges and have even gone so far as verbally (or physically) attacking them when they try to give their speeches.

Many colleges are in small towns like this one, so it is quite likely that I'll spend the rest of my career in a small town. I'd be okay with that, as long as I had more job security, a salary that enabled me to quit my second job and have at least one day off a week, and more classes that I want to teach, rather than the "required" classes that most of the tenured professors do not want to teach. That's not the case at the school where I'm teaching now, which is why I want to leave.

I've applied to almost forty schools, and I'm hopeful that I'll find something, although I've already received a few rejections. There's a strong possibility that I'll still be here next year, although it's not a guarantee.

I'm worried, though. If I don't find something better for next year, then who's to say the situation will be any different next year? I'll still have mostly the same qualifications. I do need to do more academic research, which is hard when I'm working about thirty-five to forty hours a week at my teaching job (due to my full teaching load, large number of students, department/committee meetings, etc.) and twenty hours (and sometimes more) a week at my website job.

It's ironic (and unfair) that in order to advance in my career I have to do more research, but because I'm not in an advanced status yet I don't have time to do that research. Tenured professors, on the other hand, have fewer classes to teach and assistants to grade papers and hold office hours for them. But I digress. Such is academia. I probably should have gone into something less stressful, like taste testing for the North Korean dictator, Kim Jong Un.

What about you? How do you react when people start praising a politician that makes you want to Google "one-way ticket to Canada" and "cheap flasks"?

The Girlfriend

When I found out that Small Town Guy had a new girlfriend, my reaction was basically like this:
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When I found out they were taking a trip out of town together and saw their pictures from the trip on Facebook, my reaction was basically like this:



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I thought I had let go of any feelings I had for him months ago, and truth be told, I'd already accepted a long time ago that he and I would never be more than friends. After that incident where he made me feel like my feelings didn't matter, I found myself cringing anytime someone mentioned his name.

I distanced myself from the friends I'd made here in Small Town and tried to avoid him, which isn't easy to do in a small town like this one. I swear, I keep bumping into my students everywhere: at the gym, at the local coffee shop, and once at the pharmacy, where I was buying anti-itch cream for a rash on my legs (I told the student that I ran into that "Uh, this is for a friend! Not for me, haha!").

When I finally decided to start socializing with them again, Small Town Guy was there, along with the Girlfriend (who isn't New Girl by the way, but someone who occasionally socializes with the group). He mostly ignored me, and I couldn't help but flinch when I saw him put his arm around her and listened to her say things like, "We went to that movie, and it was so romantic!"

I left after twenty minutes. Even before I found out he was dating someone, I no longer wanted to be with him (especially not after he excluded me and hurt my feelings). But still, it stung to see him with someone else.

On the one hand, it's probably for the best. I will (hopefully) be leaving Small Town pretty soon for a different job at another school in another state (if I can find one, which I won't find out about until the end of the school year). It wouldn't make sense to start something with someone when I have to leave again. I hope I can leave and find a job with a higher salary, so that I won't have to work seven days a week at two jobs anymore. (That's mainly why I've been blogging sporadically this school year.)

But on the other hand, living here finally made me realize that there has to be more to life than work. I spent all those years hiding behind my work, developing crushes on guys who just weren't that into me, which made me wonder if there was something wrong with me. Maybe I liked them because it was safer to like guys like that, because then nothing would happen and I could refocus on my work. Or maybe I'm just man repellent.

If and when I move to a new place, I've decided to try online dating again once I get settled. I've been thinking that I'll join Tinder, since I'm on Facebook now (you have to have a FB account in order to join). I've heard that a lot of people join it for hookups, but other people have ended up with more serious relationships because of it. Maybe it'll work out for me this time. Or maybe I'll end up with another freezer full of ice cream.

Unfriended

Recently, I went through a conflict with Small Town Guy that caused me to question our friendship.

A few weeks ago, many of my friends in Small Town went to a play in a larger city nearby. They spent several days talking excitedly about the excursion and about how they were going to get all dressed up for it. Apparently, Small Town Guy organized the whole thing. But I was not invited.

I know that even though we're friends, he's not obligated to invite me to everything. But it did sting to hear everyone talking about it and to know that practically everyone else in our social circle (including New Girl, who has a new boyfriend, and it's not Small Town Guy, BTW) was invited.

It also didn't help that I saw the posts on Facebook after the play about how much fun they'd had. It made me wish that I could turn into Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty, where I'd swoop in on the gathering and then put a curse on them. (Not that I was bitter or anything.)

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I texted Small Town Guy the next day to ask why I hadn't been invited and to say that I felt left out. He never texted back.

I was willing to bet that not inviting me to the play hadn't been a deliberate act on his part and was probably just a mistake or an oversight. But what made me want to buy a voodoo doll and stick a picture of his face on it was the fact that he never responded to my text about how left out I felt. That was deliberate.

A few days later, he did briefly try to talk to me, but I was on my way to work and couldn't talk. I didn't talk to him for the rest of the week, until we saw each other at a birthday party for a mutual friend that was being held at a local restaurant. A large group of us were sitting at several tables pushed up next to each other. Small Town Guy sat next to me, but he kept his back turned away from me almost the whole time, so that he could talk to New Girl, who was sitting on the other side of him. It felt like he was ignoring me or that he didn't care that he hurt my feelings, which hurt even more.

A few months ago, I had a minor disagreement with Guy Friend. I texted him about it, and he responded right away. We had a good conversation about it, and he apologized for hurting my feelings. That made me feel better, and it's been fine between him and me ever since.

I truly value the friendships I've made in Small Town. They're important to me, especially after all those years in Chicago where I was a social outcast in grad school and most of my college friends had moved on to other jobs in other states or to family life in the suburbs. Small Town Guy was the first friend I had here, but his behavior towards me made me wonder if he valued my friendship. If he had sent me a text like the one I sent him, I would have definitely talked to him about it. And I guarantee that if New Girl had texted him (for any reason), he would have responded right away.

I finally confronted him a few days after the party. He didn't really explain why I hadn't been invited, though he did apologize for never responding to my text. He said that he'd been waiting to talk to me in person. But I said that all he had to do was text back, "I think we should talk about this in person. Let's talk later," which would have made all the difference, rather than just not respond at all and make me think that he didn't care about hurting my feelings. It was the first time I was completely honest with him, and things have been a little awkward between us ever since.

But if I hadn't said something, I would have kept stewing over it, until I exploded at the wrong time. I tried talking to a couple other friends about it, but they defended Small Town Guy and didn't fully understand why I felt hurt. One of them pointed out that I shouldn't have gotten upset with just him, because none of the others thought to invite me to the play either. But that just made me feel even worse. One other friend, however, did understand how I felt, which made me feel a little better.

That's why I've been focusing more on my work and distancing myself from all of them lately, declining their social invitations (though I haven't said why). I still want to be friends with them, of course, but I think I just need my space for a while.

What about you? Have you ever had a disagreement with one of your friends?

Reading to Strangers

Apparently there's a big poetry scene in some of the bigger towns and cities nearby (but not in Small Town, unfortunately), and there are a lot of poetry readings and open mic nights hosted by local coffee shops and bars.

I heard about a monthly open mic night at a bar in a big city that's a considerable driving distance away from Small Town, but at this event people can read whatever they want, not just poetry. I've never been really good at poems. If I wrote a poem, it'd be like this: Roses are red, violets are blue. Donald Trump is destroying this country, and I blame you. (And then I'd make copies and tape them to the doors of all the Trump supporters.)

I decided to drive out to the big city and read a flash fiction piece I wrote a few years ago that I've always been proud of but has never been published. I've never read my work in front of anyone, except in writing classes.

Part of me wished that I'd brought at least a few of my friends from Small Town with me, but somehow it felt like it might be easier to read in front of strangers rather than people I knew. My writing is very personal to me, and it's something I keep secret from most people, whereas reading in front of strangers is different because then I never have to see them again if they don't like it. On the other hand, I was afraid of negative reactions from the audience that night, and I was tempted to turn back and drive home. But I kept driving forward.

The bar turned out to be a brewery, so that it looked like one big warehouse with just a small section cordoned off for the bar. When I came in, there were several rough-looking older guys playing pool and drinking beer but no women there, and they all looked at me curiously as I came in. I wasn't sure if I had the right place at first, though I had arrived early for the reading. Being there in an unfamiliar place with a bunch of men I'd never met made me wish I could say, "If any of you come near me, I will not hesitate to kick you in the crotch." (You may call me paranoid, but I did just spend the past several years living in a big city where people tried to mug or attack me on a regular basis.)

But none of the guys tried to hurt me, and soon, more people (including women) arrived. Most of the people attending the reading looked like they were hipsters, the kind of people who would groan and kick me (though their skinny jeans might cause them to trip and fall down instead of kick me) if they knew how many Britney Spears playlists are on my iPod (and yes, I have more than one, and I'm "sorry not sorry" because she's FABULOUS).

I signed up to read my story, though a part of me still wanted to run out of there before it was too late. When the host called out my name, my hands shook as I looked down at the pages I'd written.

As I read my story, people smiled and laughed at several points, which was exactly the response I was hoping for. When I finished reading and sat back down, the host of the reading said, "Duuude! You need to freakin' come BACK to the next reading, seriously!" Afterwards, several people, including other writers who also read their work, approached me to tell me that they were impressed by my writing and that I did a good job.

I felt relieved that I had finally done what I'd been wanting to do for a long time. I felt pleased that other people liked my story, and I felt happy to be around other writers who were reading their work. I felt excited to go home and write another story. And another one, and another one...

What about you? Do you feel more comfortable at the idea of sharing your work with strangers or with people you know?