Today’s guest post comes from my collaborator. I thought it was important that she speak to those of you who have been concerned about finances and family. Between three classes per semester, research, and a service-heavy load, I can attest that she was working 100 hours a week, easy; this, along with the high-stress nature of the job, took a serious toll on her health — and they sure weren’t paying her enough for that.
WoPro convinced me that I should share my story with those of you out there who think it’s impossible to leave because you have a family or financial responsibilities. I figured out in no uncertain terms that I was about to be screwed over by my College, despite doing good work for the school and its students for four years. Unlike WoPro, I actually enjoyed teaching, and generally liked my job, but I knew I was working my ass off and was getting nowhere. I decided to play hardball and here’s what I learned: every suspicion I had was correct, jumping through hoops only meant that I could continue earning $9/hour on my way to tenure. The current University structure doesn’t give a crap about competence or dedication.
My resignation letter, posted exactly as I wrote it except for what’s in brackets, is included below. Please let me reiterate that I threatened to quit despite having no back up plan, no other job offer, and no real plan going forward. I have mortgages, two small children–one is now 4 and the other is 1–and I am the primary breadwinner, as it were. I did the unthinkable because I really felt like my dignity was on the line. If you knew my grandma or my Dad, you’d understand that I had no choice but to walk away and trust in my capabilities. That said, it wasn’t easy.
I’ve thought a lot about whether I’m just another whiny professor who proclaims persecution at every turn, or someone not committed enough to the ideals of the University, or someone more interested in personal gain than helping students. But it’s just not true. I think the system is broken and I saw this decision as necessary to improve conditions for others in the field. Until we all start demanding reasonable wages, we can expect to be paid $28K for a 4/4 load. It’s important to resist the urge to buy into the idealistic self-sacrifice model (of course, the Universities are glad that you do) and demand what you are worth. It might comfort some to know that now I make a fair bit more money, have way less stress, love the place I live, am pursuing some new ‘dreams’ I never thought could happen, and am (generally) happy, despite being a pessimistic realist. So, I say, man up and join the rebellion! (I can say that cause I’m a lesbian…)
Dear [super-important white male Provost],
I am writing to inform you that I have decided to resign from my position as Assistant Professor of Classics at [medium-sized Liberal Arts College in the Bible Belt]. This decision was difficult for me; I loved the work that I did at the College and I believed in much of what the school was trying to accomplish. Nonetheless, [Bible-Belt College] was not a good place for us to raise our [queer-spawn] children (as you know, I had to leave the state to complete a second-parent adoption) and offered no options for my partner when she was seeking employment. In short, this decision was grounded in family considerations, but I would be remiss if I did not make clear that the salary offer from the College played a key role. I will also admit that at one point I was disgruntled, but I do not write to you from that perspective. Rather, I consider it my ethical obligation to convey my dissatisfaction in areas over which [Bible-Belt] College has control in the hopes that different decisions will be made in the future.
I first expressed concern over salary decisions in December 2009 when our department was preparing to hire a new tenure-track faculty member. I noticed that we had budgeted for $54,000, when my own salary was $48,515. I made it clear to my chair and dean that I would not be comfortable working alongside a new hire under these circumstances, especially when I was struggling to support my [illegitimate] family and unable to get a raise despite excellent performance reviews. I was told that I could expect this situation to be rectified. After receiving your first letter dated July 30, 2010, which indicated that my salary would remain the same, my chair explained that there were still raises on the horizon. When I finally did receive a market adjustment in your letter dated November 30, 2010, I was offered $1040, thus bringing my salary to $49,555. Public records indicate that we are paying our new hire $52,000.
Salary compression may be the normal academic process, but it is demeaning to individuals, destructive to the academic community, and, in my opinion, unconscionable. The salary offer made it clear to me that I was not valued by [Bible-belt College], despite the many verbal reassurances to the contrary. No one should have to go on the market and get competing offers just to be paid more than a new hire with less experience; this tactic is a waste of energy and resources for all involved. As it turns out, my belief that my value was greater than what I was being paid at [Bible-Belt College] was confirmed as soon as I sought employment elsewhere. I now earn a significantly higher wage at [my primarily admin position at] the University of [larger Bible-Belt State], but I am making the choice not to negotiate on those grounds.
Six of my colleagues have now left [Bible-Belt College]; three were good friends who entered at the same time and same level as me. For the years we were there, complaints about salary were constant. Many who have stayed are still complaining, and rightfully so. I have been consistently impressed by the excellent hires that [Bible-Belt College] makes and yet baffled that it does little to preserve its initial and substantial investments. Such shortsighted efficiencies prove costly in the end—far beyond the obvious economic implications of having to pay higher salaries for our replacements. I therefore urge you to consider salary compression in general, and faculty retention in particular, as serious issues, ones that deserve to be reevaluated, and not just managed with empty praise.
Thank you for taking the time to hear my concerns; I would be happy to speak with you further about these issues, should you wish to do so. Otherwise, please know that I will look back fondly on my time in [the Bible-Belt] and, most of all, I will miss working with the students and faculty in the Classics department. I wish you success in continuing to make [Bible-Belt College] an extraordinary place to teach and learn.
After two weeks, I finally received the following response—from the admin assistant in the Classics Department:
Dear [Easily Replaceable Cheap Labor]
I am sorry to hear about your resignation but wish you all the best for your future.
What mailing address would you prefer to have mail forwarded to you?
Do you have PCs/laptops, office keys, books, or any other items that belong to [Bible-Belt College] and need to be returned?
Regards,
[Not super-important white male Provost]
Need I say more?
Darling, a little something for you over at Lessons For Teachers and Twits.
I think you’ll like it. But maybe not.
Thanks for sharing your perspective. I’m sure a lot of people are interested to hear about others who are also struggling in decisions surrounding academic jobs.
Holy cow. Boy, did they ever do you wrong. Good for you for doing your homework and finding out that they were going to pay the new hire more. I shudder to think about those who don’t do their salary homework or who trust in their institutions to do the right thing and pay everyone appropriately. Did they ever give you a concrete reason why the new hire was getting more money? ALWAYS compare how much you make to what everyone else is making so you don’t get screwed.
Finally, bravo on writing a calm, cool, collected, f-bomb-free letter. That takes composure and serious restraint.
That will be my letter in probably five years or less.
Thanks for sharing. And I am glad things are working out so well. Marc Bousquet (howtheuniversityworks.com) also identifies psychic capital and how it’s being used to exploit us in higher education. And while some people would point to that tenuous fact that money isn’t everything, it is an important thing, and in our society, it is the mark of respect. I see those commercials for the 100k job sites? I think, that’s what I deserve. Not because I’m entitled, but because I’ve earned it.
ohmygod. The punch line, of course, is the response tendered by the school — from an administrative assistant, no less. Urgh.
But that’s pretty much par for the course (I got no letter from any one when I left…..)
Thanks for a lesson in courage!
Oh no but sadly I’m hearing more and more tales of people leaving tenure track jobs for the reasons that you gave. Thank you for sharing.
Hooray!
Yikes. I can’t believe professors are paid such low wages and treated like completely replaceable cheap labor, despite years spent earning a doctorate and jumping through bizarre academic hoops.
And the sad thing is that, even knowing this, I am on the cusp of accepting a tenure-track position this month . . . Why you may ask? That is for another post.
Holy Moses. That response…I would have lost it.
Kudos to you for ballsy career move. I hope it has brought nothing but good stuff for you and your family.
Are you back in Austin with WoPro, old friend? MJ and I used to love your house so much.
Bravo to you for taking a stand and getting out. It’s stories like your that make me think — every time I question whether I’d take a tenure-track job if it were offered — that the answer is no. The adjunctification of the profession isn’t just about adjuncts anymore. Adjuncts are cheap and disposable, but, increasingly, so too are professors. And things won’t change until more and more and more people protest the system by refusing to be a part of it.
I truly appreciate the stand you took; however, I think it is important to remember that new hires are often unaware of the issue of salary compression, or what their future colleagues are currently making. Offers are low anyway (relative to the work load and graduate school loans) and so new hires attempt to negotiate the best possible incoming salary, of course.
The problem with salary discrepancy that I have experienced is it creates tension between colleagues and faculty that are earning less than the new hire – and, if the established colleagues decide it is the fault of the new hire (rather than rightly faulting the administration as you did), they can make life a living hell for them. I was, more or less, inspired to leave a department due to this very issue (the colleagues took out their frustration on me).
Now I am aware of compression issues, but still struggle with the right thing to do when in salary negotiations. Should a new hire refuse to accept a salary higher than her other colleagues? To some extent, I think that is right (for maintaining department unity) – on the other hand, it de-values her talents (and gives the administration the idea that they do not need to increase the salary for anyone in the department).
My collaborator is down with a terrible plague, and will hopefully have something to say when she’s well, but I’d like to speak up on this issue: she would never be mean to someone who was asking for their fair value. This is why I think it’s absolutely correct to turn any anger/tension on the admin who really has the power in maintaining salary parity. Unfortunately, I’ve seen most admins cry poverty on this issue (even at the most well-off private unis) until they feel like making a ‘superstar’ hire, in which case money is suddenly found. It’s dishonest and quite disgusting. Makes a gal little cynical, if you know what I mean.
Because said collaborator does truly seem to be at death’s door with the [considerably-more-than] 24 hour flu, I thought I’d take the liberty to comment on this last one since I know the back story: No, she would never be mad at the person who got the high starting salary; kudos to them, everyone knows that starting salary is just about the only time one gets to negotiate. BUT when she got the job offer and was doing her own salary negotiations with BibleBelt, one of the reasons that the department told her they could not match her request was that it would put her at a higher salary than two (or maybe it was three) of the current department members. Being a reasonable person, she agreed that would not be fair and accepted a salary just under what the others were being paid. So it was just a little extra salt (and lime) in the wound when the story played out in such a different way with the next new hire. It’s not all about the money, it’s about the dignity. (And yes QuidQuid – we are back home in ATX and it is love-ly. Except for the stomach flu.)
Ugh- the response letter that they sent to her disgusts me. It’s like they didn’t even bother to read what she wrote because they were too worried she might run off with a stapler. I hope your friend finds a better place that treats her with the respect she deserves!