Posts tagged me
Posts tagged me
I am no longer an American living in Cairo and so I changed the name of my tumblr. I had a tumblr earlier this year with the same name but deleted it for personal reasons. It was time to resurrect The Frezh Press after I realized “Kittens in Kathmandu” didn’t have the right ring to it…
A lot of friends call me D Fresh. I recall the dfresh tumblr handle being taken when I signed up so I chose frezh instead but same pronunciation.
And there we are.
Athens, Greece. 2009.
Bench on the beach.
San Sebastian, Spain. 2012.
A bunch of photos of travels that never see the light of day. Such a shame… with the advent of digital photography we take about 100,000 photos to ensure we are getting the perfect shot while we miss the experience of being where we actually are.
Cliche ramblings aside, it’s a nice trip down memory lane. And another reminder that I’m almost out of room in my passport.
It is 2011 and I’m sitting in the Palais des Congres in Montreal, watching anthropologists talk about structural inequality.
The American Anthropological Association meeting is held annually to showcase research from around the world, and like thousands of other anthropologists, I am paying to play: $650 for airfare, $400 for three nights in a “student” hotel, $70 for membership, and $94 for admission. The latter two fees are student rates. If I were an unemployed or underemployed scholar, the rates would double.
The theme of this year’s meeting is “Traces, Tidemarks and Legacies.” According to the explanation on the American Anthropological Association website, we live in a time when “the meaning and location of differences, both intellectually and morally, have been rearranged”. As the conference progresses, I begin to see what they mean. I am listening to the speaker bemoan the exploitative practices of the neoliberal model when a friend of mine taps me on the shoulder.
“I spent almost my entire salary to be here,” she says.
My friend is an adjunct. She has a PhD in anthropology and teaches at a university, where she is paid $2100 per course. While she is a professor, she is not a Professor. She is, like 67 per cent of American university faculty, a part-time employee on a contract that may or may not be renewed each semester. She receives no benefits or health care.
According to the Adjunct Project, a crowdsourced website revealing adjunct wages - data which universities have long kept under wraps - her salary is about average. If she taught five classes a year, a typical full-time faculty course load, she would make $10,500, well below the poverty line. Some adjuncts make more. I have one friend who was offered $5000 per course, but he turned it down and requested less so that his children would still qualify for food stamps.
Why is my friend, a smart woman with no money, spending nearly $2000 to attend a conference she cannot afford? She is looking for a way out. In America, academic hiring is rigid and seasonal. Each discipline has a conference, usually held in the fall, where interviews take place. These interviews can be announced days or even hours in advance, so most people book beforehand, often to receive no interviews at all.
The American Anthropological Association tends to hold its meetings in America’s most expensive cities, although they do have one stipulation: “AAA staff responsible for negotiating and administering annual meeting contracts shall show preference to locales with living wage ordinances.” This rule does not apply, unfortunately, to those in attendance.
Below poverty line
“The adjunct problem is emblematic of broader trends in American employment: the end of higher education as a means to prosperity, and the severing of opportunity to all but the most privileged.”
In most professions, salaries below the poverty line would be cause for alarm. In academia, they are treated as a source of gratitude. Volunteerism is par for the course - literally. Teaching is touted as a “calling”, with compensation an afterthought. One American research university offers its PhD students a salary of $1000 per semester for the “opportunity” to design and teach a course for undergraduates, who are each paying about $50,000 in tuition. The university calls this position “Senior Teaching Assistant” because paying an instructor so far below minimum wage is probably illegal.
In addition to teaching, academics conduct research and publish, but they are not paid for this work either. Instead, all proceeds go to for-profit academic publishers, who block academic articles from the public through exorbitant download and subscription fees, making millions for themselves in the process. If authors want to make their research public, they have to pay the publisher an average of $3000per article. Without an institutional affiliation, an academic cannot access scholarly research without paying, even for articles written by the scholar itself.
It may be hard to summon sympathy for people who walk willingly into such working conditions. “Bart, don’t make fun of grad students,” Marge told her son on an oft-quoted episode of The Simpsons. “They just made a terrible life choice.”
But all Americans should be concerned about adjuncts, and not only because adjuncts are the ones teaching our youth. The adjunct problem is emblematic of broader trends in American employment: the end of higher education as a means to prosperity, and the severing of opportunity to all but the most privileged.
In a searing commentary, political analyst Joshua Foust notes that the unpaid internships that were once limited to show business have now spread to nearly every industry. “It’s almost impossible to get a job working on policy in this town without an unpaid internship,” he writes from Washington DC, one of the most expensive cities in the country. Even law, once a safety net for American strivers, is now a profession where jobs pay as little as $10,000 a year- unfeasible for all but the wealthy, and devastating for those who have invested more than $100,000 into their degrees. One after another, the occupations that shape American society are becoming impossible for all but the most elite to enter.
The value of a degree
Academia is vaunted for being a meritocracy. Publications are judged on blind review, and good graduate programs offer free tuition and a decent stipend. But its reliance on adjuncts makes it no different than professions that cater to the elite through unpaid internships.
Anthropologists are known for their attentiveness to social inequality, but few have acknowledged the plight of their peers. When I expressed doubt about the job market to one colleague, she advised me, with total seriousness, to “re-evaluate what work means” and to consider “post-work imaginaries”. A popular videoon post-graduate employment cuts to the chase: “Why don’t you tap into your trust fund?”
In May 2012, I received my PhD, but I still do not know what to do with it. I struggle with the closed off nature of academic work, which I think should be accessible to everyone, but most of all I struggle with the limited opportunities in academia for Americans like me, people for whom education was once a path out of poverty, and not a way into it.
My father, the first person in his family to go to college, tries to tell me my degree has value. “Our family came here with nothing,” he says of my great-grandparents, who fled Poland a century ago. “Do you know how incredible it is that you did this, how proud they would be?”
And my heart broke a little when he said that, because his illusion is so touching - so revealing of the values of his generation, and so alien to the experience of mine.
For a short amount of time and a small amount of money but still a grateful kitten.
As acceptance of same-sex marriage and parenthood grows, many gay couples find themselves answering the double-edged questions.
I absolutely must attest to the accuracy of this article. As a single gay man in his mid-20’s, I haven’t reached any kind of conclusion to whether or not I’d like to have children someday. At the moment, I am thinking not given the mobility required by my career choice.
My mother, on the other hand, has decided I absolutely will have children- despite her existing eight grandchildren- and that it’s simply a matter of time. “Douglas, you’re too young right now to make a decision either way. It’s different when you get married,” She says.
Uh huh. We’ll see, Ma.
I do love Ramadan and the festive atmosphere it brings.
However, I am really looking forward to not going to bed at 4 AM and to the city and its inhabitants being back on a [relatively] normal schedule. I function poorly without a routine. (Yes, I know Ramadan and its celebrations have nothing to do with me and my life as a foreigner living in a Muslim country so get off my back, kittens and fruits.) ^_^;
Also, I got stuck in downtown Cairo at 2 AM last night. I met some friends for beverages and could not for the life of me find a cab home. This is strange and should not have happened but every taxi I tried to hail was full. I consider myself somewhat of a pro at hailing taxis. After living on and off in Manhattan for years, I thought I could get a taxi anywhere. Um, yeah, no.
I ended up walking about 3/4 of the way down 26th July to Zamalek in massive Ramadan traffic wearing clothes not very suitable for 40+ degrees. Mind you, there is no place I’d rather be at 2 AM on a Tuesday morning then stranded in downtown Cairo during Ramadan. But I digress.