March 9, 2007

The Elusive ‘It’

I’m in my 29th year of community college work — nearly three decades of completed service and the happy land of defined benefit retirement compose the visible diptych on my life-line horizon. For most of my career, I have taught introductory English and composition.

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You can type my name into Google Scholar and see some of the lighter-weight composition scholarship (presentations and small-scale articles) I’ve produced — most since I finished my doctorate back in 1993. Since the late 90’s, I have generated a bit of interesting “regional” material, I would say, on electronic portfolios and the emergence of hypertext essays.

I have thought about writing my memoirs — you know, reflecting on my career path, or the changes in technology, or pedagogical evolution, or the sprawling emergence of ed leadership programs — those topics of interest which shaped my teaching career and the community college culture I swim in. I have taught face-to-face, online, using ITV, and in hybrid situations. I would rather discuss one of my unrecognized objectives, one of my deferred ambitions.

I have worked these 29 years at the same institution — a rural (although increasingly suburban) community college in Arizona. I have enjoyed working at this institution and attending meetings and teaching students for 58 semesters. I think often about the deans, presidents, vice presidents, directors, and other faculty members who have come and gone. To many of them, their time spent at our little institution was just another rung on the ladder of their American Dream. I take a certain amount of pride in my shop-rat tenacity — my commitment to a life-long career at one place of employment. My college has been very good to me.

There have been times, though, in the past that I have sought employment elsewhere — especially at universities. One of my major goals in life has been to teach undergrads at a four year college or university.

I have hungered for that academic environment, for an infrastructure that would be supportive (and demanding!) of that part of me which likes to write and think about composition pedagogy and the current changes in writing and writing instruction paradigms. I am missing that sense of informed collegiality grounded in theory-based knowledge. Of course I enjoy teaching, but I do not believe I am part of the “community of scholars.”

On the surface, I suspect my pedigree and ethos may not be recognized or perceived as suitable for the intellectual demands traditionally associated with a four year college. My community college past partly explains my inability to obtain a position at a university. Certainly, I have the wrong kind of doctorate — an Ed.D. in curriculum and instruction — a degree belittled even by many of my community college colleagues who hold the Ph.D. Although I have been a prolific presenter at conferences, my pub record is pretty thin and most of my work has not been juried. My age — 53 now — is not helpful. But the real problem, I believe, is that I don’t have “It.” I am not university material.

I think I am smart enough to teach at a four year college somewhere in America. I have an amazing proclivity for taking my teaching practices seriously. I try to be a good instructor and I am certainly student centered. I have been fairly active in local associations — although I have never held any leadership roles. When I’ve presented at national conferences and had my ideas challenged, I’ve always been able explain the theoretical — and practical — foundations underpinning my ideas.

My dissertation committee was composed of some stellar folks — national figures in their areas of expertise. I have always believed in improving myself professionally and academically. I have always sensed that true professional development comes from contributing to the knowledge base of my discipline — not in the constant re-explanation of the community college mission.

But there has always been something missing in my personality, in my presence, in my Weltanschauung, which has kept me in my place. When I look at my life and my habits, I think I can sense where I might have gone wrong.

I don’t exude star power. I don’t command the attention of the room. I’m not very self-promoting. The blue collar types on the Miller High Life commercials — (flowers in a beer bottle, spit-shined janitor shoes) remind me of me. Sort of. Such a man (or woman) knows the job at hand and gets it done. Like recently wealthy industrialists in a W.D. Howells’ novel, I am not comfortable with my station. I don’t dress well. I can’t talk about wine. I can’t imagine spending good money on bizarre flavors at Starbucks. I have an uncanny ability to sniff out fraud, elitism, and artifice.

I respect those who appear truly educated, who trust their own “genius,” who create rather than facilitate. I believe a good teacher doesn’t need a textbook. I perk up when I hear a linguist discuss allophonic variations — I try to walk away from speeches about market penetration. I am interested in developing the writing skills of my students rather than liberating their political views or promoting some hidden agenda I personally relish. Control over syntax, in my estimation, is power.

I have always thought hard work and commitment to my discipline mattered more than career building. I am not really interested in the corporate emulation managerial practices that have flowered in the community college (mission statements, networking, partnering agreements). All of that appears to be distant from the day–to-day learning needs of students — and such practices and pursuits may contribute to confusion about the purpose of community college faculty and their role in the teaching/learning process.

For my undergraduate career, I attended a wonderful junior college and then an excellent small liberal arts college — both in Nebraska. I brought my Midwestern work ethic into these rich learning environments and prospered. Talented men and women, excellent teachers and scholars, helped me grow intellectually. The liberating force of the humanities, of a liberal arts education, set me free and continues to guide my daily life and decision making processes. Now, dinosaur-like, I graze on a plain increasingly foreign to me — though I participate in this civilization daily with a laptop in hand and learning outcomes posted in Blackboard. (I adapted easily to the “new” technological environment back in the mid 80’s — I’m sure my liberal arts background helped me learn computing with minimal effort.)

My grandfather, in 1940, could determine how to calculate and construct the necessary pitch of a roof—the trusses— using a carpenter’s square, and pencil and paper, and his mind. Now that impresses me.

I remember vividly those professors who seemed a bit eccentric — tussled hair, mismatched clothes, suspenders, and bifocals. What I remember about them most was their absolute command of subject matter, their wisdom, their kindness, their humanity. Their Ph.D.s came from real universities — learned communities with tradition and rigor — from a world that didn’t celebrate the customer service metaphor or promote delivery systems rather than actual educational quality.

They were professors who professed and contributed to the body of scholarship — their professorships were earned, not honorific job titles. As far as I could tell, networking and consulting were seldom part of their daily lives — certainly never part of their classroom discourse.

But I am not like them. I really am not their intellectual equal. I have dabbled in so many errant pastimes.

Nor am I like the legions of 21st century online doctoral students, eager to become deans or associate vice presidents, who seek to be credentialed rather than educated. Bright, well-intentioned people are involved in such programs, of course. But many of them, even after receiving their degrees, still think a conceptual framework is something which can be purchased at Home Depot.

My efforts at being an original thinker — a disciple of the learned — rather than a parrot or corporate pretender — have kept me clothed in a khaki shirt with a name patch sewn over my heart. Perhaps my notion of “It” is anachronistic. Perhaps I no longer fit. Perhaps the world has passed me by. Perhaps I should have earned a real degree.

Sometimes, during crisp autumn evenings up there in Arizona’s Apache County, when I sit in a refitted metal shed I brazenly refer to as my steel cottage, I have a better understanding of “It” and where “It” went. Leafing through a tired, coffee-stained copy of A Sand County Almanac, I pause and feel pity for those who allow their careers to manage their lives, for those who feel bigger than the game we tried to play in, for those whose sense of the profession has been defined by some resort vacation or senior leadership meetings. While I am sad that I still don’t have “It,” I sleep peacefully knowing I did (and will do) just fine. And that my steel cottage is paid for.

My 29 years have been bittersweet. Neither fish nor fowl, I have worked and taught in a kind of academic limbo. I believed, almost every year, that my time in academe’s spotlight was forthcoming. My new ideas would be embraced by the academic community. Harvard or Lafayette or Stanford would be calling. That didn’t happen. But I have enjoyed my work, enjoyed working with students and colleagues over the years.

As my journey nears completion, I can smile and perhaps take comfort, and joy, in knowing my legacy is secured. Just maybe “It“ rests cozily inside me, just below my pores, preserved but never evident. And perhaps I purposefully chose to defer that dream.

Jeffrey Ross teaches at Central Arizona College.

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Comments

You’ve Still Got “It”

Dr. Ross,

You have always had “It” in my estimation. I am forever thankful that you had not realized your elusive dream 20 years ago, when I was your student (when I distinctly remember you telling us that you had no desire to “jump through the hoops” of obtaining a doctorate!), and that you are still doing what you do best now that you have the honor of teaching my son about those damned syntax errors. Or perhaps the honor is all his. If not for great educators like you, community college people like us may not have gotten a glimpse into the world of beauty and power that is the English language. Best wishes in your quest, Jeff; we are fortunate to have known you when...

Laure

Laure Hill, Teacher at Mountain Shadows Education Center, at 9:55 pm EDT on August 28, 2007

Thanks...

Jeffrey,

Could your ‘It’ perhaps be the thousands of students who were touched by your teaching and mentoring during the last 29 years?

P.S. I love this line from your article, “I am interested in developing the writing skills of my students rather than liberating their political views or promoting some hidden agenda I personally relish.”

P.P.S. This is one of the best pieces I’ve read in a long time on this site. Thanks...

Kevin, at 8:56 am EST on March 9, 2007

Look on the bright side: at least you have a full-time job with benefits!

Think about the thousands of part-timers working from year to year, exploited and hanging on the promise of a full-time position (still no employment benefits), carrying a full-time load (perhaps at different schools).

In the immortal words of Walter Benjamin, “It is only for the sake of those without (jobs) that (a job) is given to you.”

Glen McGhee, FHEAP, at 8:56 am EST on March 9, 2007

58 Semesters

I both sympathize with your typecasting and congratulate you for the consolation of philosophy you’ve found. I do teach in a “four-year” college: a for-profit. When I’ve done your 29 years, though, I shall have taught 87 full semesters to your 58. We do this because big business has de-funded higher education, enabling privatization on these terms.

Business executives have determined that it’s possible on paper to treat teaching like any other job that does not require an off season. (Yet I believe in balanced job complexes for everyone:. But teaching, especially, requires a break.) Business executives must compete for stockholders. I find it interesting that business executives who themselves had the benefit of college professors with much lighter teaching loads learned so much about how to squeeze such volume out of the “lower tier” of Ph.Ds in the last twenty years. How much would those business executives have learned at their Harvard or Princeton Business Schools, I wonder, had their own professors been exhausted from teaching 45 credit hours a year? There’s something wrong with this picture, for us, for our students, and for society. And nothing left, it seems, but the consolation of philosophy.

Wilkins, at 9:00 am EST on March 9, 2007

And yet there is another end to the bell curve of educational institutions and this story. After 25 years as a scientist and teacher at a major comprehensive research university, I can’t find employment in one of those great small liberal arts colleges that have become my “elusive ‘it’,” too. One always reads that “You can do anything with a degree in liberal arts.” Why is it so impossible for someone with 4 degrees to anything at a liberal arts college?

KEN, at 10:50 am EST on March 9, 2007

Thank you for this article.

This article really portrays life working in the community college system quite well, especially for Professors who have worked hard all their lives and seek something higher but can’t seem to find any way to latch on to the more marquee positions that would give them an indication, at least, that their careers have been worth it and are taking them to higher ground. The main question here, then, is whether professors at the community college level, or at any level for that matter, can find happiness and contentment in the face of these more ambitious dreams. Actually, the good professor’s predicament is more universal than one may initially think, and what I appreciate most about the article is that he understands the meaning of acceptance and contentment with one’s station in life in the face of a near-constant and nagging ambition that most of us encounter on a daily basis. But the positive attitude of the professor shows us that it’s okay to be happy and accept where one is on the ladder of the academic game, simply because this is far more important, I believe, than chasing after one’s ambition. From someone who is still a lowly Adjunct at a community college in New Jersey after four years of what many would call stagnation, I find this article quite a relief, and I thank the author of it for sharing his positivity with the rest of us. I’d rather be happy and content with my life, no matter how lowly it is.

Hozefa Haveliwala, Adjunct Professor of English at Bergen Community College, at 10:51 am EST on March 9, 2007

Many Thanks

There are all sorts of useful, good work, and yours, Jeffrey, is as important as any—thanks for saying it so sweetly. Not only was this essay the best thing I’ve seen on a blog in ages, but the string of comments following it says something really important: We’re together on this. You have it, man. We should all hope to have it so well.

Jim Pangborn, at 11:55 am EST on March 9, 2007

Higher Ground

I have spent a good deal of my career at both community colleges and Research I universities and even a couple of small regional liberal arts colleges. Community colleges “are” the higher ground precisely because it is more challenging to teach effectively at a community college.

On average community college students don’t readily lend themselves to academic rigor, while some do. Many university students don’t appreciate academic rigor either but the average of those who do is of course higher.

Community colleges can address the issue of rigor both through upholding high academic standards as students progress (if they progress) and by offering honors courses and programs. It doesn’t have to be an either/or proposition.

I have known a number of community college faculty throughout my career who have moved to the university sector (and vice versa); not so often to the small liberal arts college. The pedigree does matter a lot if this is your goal. If it is, then you need to have the appropriate PhD “in the discipline.” Further, the better the reputation of the doctoral institution the better your chances yet again for landing at a university. Without the appropriate doctorate (with an emphasis on empirical research)you’re pretty much out of luck when applying to universities and liberal arts colleges. The terminal degree is a more substantial barrier than teaching at a community college, which is not for the faint of heart.

KED, Community College President, at 12:00 pm EST on March 9, 2007

Lots of good ponts, but...

Jeffrey,I appreciate your thoughtful reflections and value your insights on higher education.

However, whereas Kevin “loves” the following line, I would have to take issue with it: “I am interested in developing the writing skills of my students rather than liberating their political views or promoting some hidden agenda I personally relish.”

Viewing education as about imparting “skills” as opposed to liberating students IS IN FACT a political position, and apparently it is one you value, perhaps even “relish". It’s a position on the function of education and what should be taught and learned in courses. These issues are contested and debated by politicians local and federal all the time—which suggests to me that much of our citizenry does see these issues as political. These debates often reflect the differing views implied by your statement in which some see education as developing skills and knowledge and others see it as developing consioiusness and citizens (I grant you that this forum compels me to oversimplify). In my view, your position is a legitimate, debatable (that’s what makes it legitimate in my view) political position. But it is a postion all the same. Claiming it is not political is, however, a common and I think, disingenous manuever to place one’s ideas beyond discussions of mere politics and power. I don’t know if “everything” is political, but education—it’s function and thus content—is in our society.

Edd, at 1:25 pm EST on March 9, 2007

J. Ross, you nailed “it” with your finely written view of the elusive professorial search. I laughed generously at your keen perceptions “…the legions of 21st century online doctoral students, eager to become deans or associate vice presidents, who seek to be credentialed rather than educated…but many of them, even after receiving their degrees, still think a conceptual framework is something which can be purchased at Home Depot.” Thanks for singing the song so many of us play only in our head. J. C.

Jann M. Contento, at 2:35 pm EST on March 9, 2007

Elusive?

I had a teacher like you. Bright, intelligent, dedicated, interested. Maybe he hoped for a different career trajectory. I never knew and never asked him. His name was Dr David Robins and he was killed in a climbing accident in northern Pakistan in 1986. But he never saw what his teaching and dedication gave me — he lifted me up. I guess you’ve done that for your students. (And, by the sound of that, without any postmodern tosh!)

Carl RM, at 2:42 pm EST on March 9, 2007

J. Alfred Prufrock

Am an attendant lord, one that will do To swell a progress, start a scene or two, Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool, Deferential, glad to be of use, Politic, cautious, and meticulous; Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse; At times, indeed, almost ridiculous —Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old. . . I grow old. . .I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach? I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

Bob Schenck, at 2:45 pm EST on March 9, 2007

Edd,

Your point that, “These debates often reflect the differing views implied by your statement in which some see education as developing skills and knowledge and others see it as developing consciousness and citizens (I grant you that this forum compels me to oversimplify)” is, indeed, an oversimplification and not what Dr. Ross said.

What I “loved” was what Dr. Ross said. I agree with his position and really don’t want professors to believe that it is their job to liberate the political views of my child or to promote some hidden agenda they personally relish. This is what Dr. Ross said. He did not say “developing consciousness and citizens” as you implied.

As you point out the debate will continue. But we should not allow ourselves to believe that we are forced to pick and then join only the knowledge/skills OR developing better citizens camps, but not both. Higher education should be about both.

Kevin, at 4:35 pm EST on March 9, 2007

Great Article!

Dr. Jeff:

I have read many articles in this forum but enjoyed your piece the most. Candor, honesty, and humility are a few of the superlatives that I would use to describe your interesting essay. I have taught at both two year and four year institutions finding rewards, challenges and opportunities in both systems. Teaching has been a very rewarding and enriching profession regardless of the student level or the rank of the institution. Like you, I enjoy the interaction with students the most. Enjoy the Arizona sunsets from your “steel shed” as you reflect and reminisce about the many students you have touched and made a difference in their lives.

Thanks again for your genuine and sincere thoughts.

Tony EnervaUniversity of Maine, Fort Kent

Tony Enerva, at 7:20 pm EST on March 9, 2007

I am missing that sense of informed collegiality grounded in theory-based knowledge

To be frank, I’ve never heard much actual discussion of theory, or critical pedagogy, or intercourse about research, at the 4-year institutions where I’ve been employed. That’s why I spend so much time reading IHE, blogs, etc.

Jonathan Dresner, at 9:25 pm EST on March 9, 2007

PhD or EdD

J,Seems as though you are bitter sweet about your life, a PhD would have been your better choice. I, a yr your Sr and completing a masters in Curriculum and Instructional Design this week. I begin a PhD in Curriculum and Instructional design online in June of 07.

I do not have 29 yrs in Education. I spent my time chasing the elusive dollar after vietnam, and managed to obtain a BS degree along the way in the 80’s.

We are both in the prime years of earning and living ( plus the beginning of physical deterioration!)I am not even on your level, but I have learned presentation skills from the educational process, and decades in sales presentations.

We both seek changes in our educational performances, you are not in a bad spot!I cannot afford Harvard, but I am destined to get a PhD. Stick your neck out, and find your blessings!You must meet requirements, and experience to achieve academically. Get a PhD.Many told me that was the better less terminal degree?

Seek and ye shall find!

Philsy, at 7:25 am EST on March 10, 2007

The Elusive It

Jeff: It wasn’t only students you mentored but also faculty and staff. As one of those, as a colleague, I can only say thanks to you for the time you spent in mentoring me and assisting me in learning the day to day life survival skills at a community college. As far as your courses go, your courses are always filled and your students come out of your courses with the abilty to both write and anaylze issues. They learn to think. And they remember you with affection. I have been privileged to work with you and will miss you tremendously when you take off for the Big Steel and leave the rest of us toiling away, envying your retirement. Rock on.

Rhonda Jackson, Librarian/Adjunct Instructor at Central Arizona College, at 2:50 pm EST on March 10, 2007

College students can smell fear. They can also tell whether or not an instructor wants to actually teach. When I was a student, I attended two community colleges, one university and one liberal arts college (not in that order). The instructors I learned the most from, the ones who were obviously engaged in their own teaching and in my understanding of the material, were the ones teaching outside of the university box. Maybe they didn’t have the publish-or-perish weight on their shoulders. Maybe they were avoiding the politics of academia for that very reason. Maybe they were in the business of teaching because they actually wanted to teach. Whatever their reasons, I recognized the ones who wanted to be there teaching me and who could do it well. I respected it then when I was an unappreciative young thing, and I’m impressed and grateful for it now, ten years later, after being in the real world for a while. I know the prestige they were either giving up or avoiding altogether.

Who has how many letters after their name and where so-and-so went to school and where they teach is considered terribly important in this world. It’s ridiculous and frustrating, but I don’t see it changing any time soon. Humans are obsessed with how everyone looks on paper. Until that changes, I would like to thank the teachers I’ve had who actually taught their courses, taught them well, and wanted me to learn what they had to teach. I noticed.

alexa harrington, at 6:15 am EDT on March 11, 2007

Jeffrey, Again I’d like to add my thanks. I might add that I agree with Edd: It’s possible to be “political” and, as Kevin legitimately protests, to “promote a hidden agenda” without recognizing it. I wonder if your classroom exhibits or subtly suggests, the “corporate emulation” you so eloquently reject in your article: that or “market penetration,” or the growing discourse around treating students as “cutomers.” All that is very political it seems to me (and Edd, too, if I take him aright.) Even you seem to take a (political) stand against it.(I would ask Kevin it it’s not best for a professor just to come clean where she or he stands and open the discussion from there.)

Do you wear your khaki shirt on the job? My for-profit “university” requires a business dress code. How much of summers off have you had over your 29 years? My for-profit “university” has none: we teach year round, three full 15-credit-hour trimesters nonstop. This, to me, is also a political issue, for it attests the increasing corporate power in our society. I love your article, but my company uses much the same language to extol the “virtue” of our teaching. And I love teaching, I’ll bet, as much as you do. But my colleagues and I are very, very tired. And that’s a pity, for our students need and deserve not just the dedicated professionals we are, but better rested ones.

All who’ve joined the discussion: I don’t wish to detract from Jeffrey’s wise and beautiful article. And I don’t wish to turn away from the plight of adjuncts, for mine IS a full-time job with benefits (even if my salary suggests that, in effect, I teach the summers for free). In fact, I’d alert those adjuncts seeking full-time positions to consider the for-profit sector so they can see for themselves whether teaching on such a scale is really as good a thing for students as my company insists. If not, then consider joining me in some political action to blow the whistle on it. Please see my ealier response above (Wilkins) for more background. Jeffrey’s story and mine are part of a larger historical context worth discussion.

(P.S. Nor is this to slight Prufrock.)

Wilkins, at 9:20 pm EDT on March 11, 2007

Jeffrey,Just want to add: I envy your defined benefit retirement. Mine is a corporate 401(k). Better than nothing, to be sure (I hope).

Wilkins Again, at 9:21 pm EDT on March 11, 2007

Ross

J. Ross’ epistle is the finest piece of writing on the experience of teaching in community colleges I have ever wished I wrote. I’d like to see him expand his thoughts into a major article or even a book: certainly there is a chapter in each of his well-written paragraphs.

Bob England, at 10:15 am EDT on March 12, 2007

More kudos

Jeffrey: Please let me add to the praise for your article. Beginning with gratitude made your story stand out.

Let me hasten to assure you that the “right” degree might not have done it for you either. Even with a literature doctorate from a Research I university, I was unable to find any kind of tenure-track position (including at the many community colleges I applied to), and bounced from job to job to stay in the low-opportunity city where my wife’s job landed us, adjunct teaching between positions and, of course, failing to accrue a define-benefit or any other kind of pension. At your age, I haven’t really had any “career” at all, just a succession of jobs.If you feel bittersweet at having been relegated to a community college, imagine a life-time of putting yourself out there on the job market, never being secure, and concealing your higher degree much of the time. (By the way, did you keep track of some of your students? I just read an interview with a wealthy man who was educated at community colleges and who believes they do the best job of educating in America.)

I, too, waxed nostalgic for an imagined collegial academic existence, but was usually brought up short by speaking with friends who had “real” academic careers, but somehow never wanted to talk about them during our social hours, because they were filled with careerism, competition, status wars, back-stabbing, etc. Not to cry sour grapes, but that was their reality.

One more point. I’m not sure what this debate about teaching being political, even if you don’t think so, really means. Of course we all teach from somewhere, but that’s not the same as open indoctrination, as one of my professors at the Research I University indulged in, and which, sadly, diminished an otherwise fine scholar in my eyes.

Gypsy Boots, at 3:20 pm EDT on March 13, 2007

The elusive “IT”

If it were not for the academic foundationbuilt by those dedicated professors that remain unrecognized...the university professor would be the demi-god lecturing to themselves.....

Alex deJesus, at 3:25 pm EDT on March 13, 2007

IT

I do not know if this is reassuring or not. After 8 years at a 4 year college teaching undergraduates and nearly 30 teaching law students, I can do not think there is an “it,” unless it is a mutually shared effort at affirming those with similar privileged backgrounds. Among those at 4 year colleges and law schools are a huge number of underachievers and non achievers. And, many are insufferable. If you like what you are doing and like the people you work with, you have it made.

Jeffrey Harrison, at 5:30 pm EDT on March 13, 2007

To Gypsy Boots

To venture a possible answer to your last question why an “apolitical” stance is highly political: I believe people make that claim believing that professing or admitting no particular political agenda is tantamount to an approval of the status quo. And the status quo, of course, is always political. It’s the existing power relations. Someone who approves of a given status quo can acknowledge it or not. It’s a “political” attitude or orientation regardless. That’s my understanding.

My question to others regarding adjunct teaching conditions, or Wilkins who does 45 credit hours a year (I take her/his word for it, though it’s hard to believe how any faculty in its right mind would ever have acceded to such a thing): Even though teaching is an unsung noble cause, can there be such a thing as overdoing it? That surely could be considered a political predicament, one of power relations. Jeffrey, you’re obviously a dedicated teacher. But would you have approved of a teaching load much heavier than the one you carried for 29 years?

David W., at 9:35 pm EDT on March 13, 2007

Jeff, as a former student of yours, I can say that you are my hero. You did indead teach me the correct way to express myself in writing which led to my success as an honor graduate in a teaching program and then on to a career in teaching. Thanks jeff!

Lin Andresen, Teacher at Thunder mountain middle schol, at 5:01 am EDT on March 16, 2007

Dr. Ross,

One of my professors at Oregon State told me that those who get a PhD are the 5% smartest people in the world. (and she clearly mean vastly superior to all others) Another there told me that PhD’s are the world’s elite—and the only voices that will matter. At Capella, my professors were “teaching” to earn a buck, and they made it clear that the degree was a spring board to a management position, but they didn’t seem interested in my desire for creating work that matters to the academic community. So, do you have “it"? I’d say no. I also say, thank goodness you don’t.

During the 12 years I worked as a adjunct member of the Maricopa Community College District and the three years I was privilaged to work with CAC, you were the bright and shining star of my experience. You were always there to support my teaching, you always had a kind or encouraging word—and often sage advice. You are a teacher of teachers!

Having worked with many of your students as they moved through the required English course series, I can attest to your success with them; they were becoming critical thinkers, they were understanding the idea of authorship, they were ingaged in the politics of reality. Your work with developmental students in particular deserves recongition—perhaps an Oscar-like statue with Nobel-like grant would do—because those students have moved far beyond the limits their high school teachers, parents, and peers would have considered peak.

I applaud your dream; however, speaking for myself and the thousands of students, faculty, student-workers, and staff you have touched during your career, I want to say how rich my life has been for knowing you and seeing your work right where you were.

Laura

Laura Steinert, South Texas College, at 11:55 am EDT on March 17, 2007

Bravo!

Well, done, Jeff. I enjoyed reading this article, and teared up a little at the end thinking of your retirement — we’ll all lose so much with your absence. I enjoyed seeing the “political or not” debate unfold, also. As a “youngin,” I’m well aware that during grad school I taught from the political pulpit, teaching my own Weltansschauung as “right.” I have, thankfully, in years mellowed. I thought I was so clever to catch the Prufrock tone, but I see I wasn’t the only one (I still have a lot to learn about overcoming egocentricism!). I think I also see glimpses of Hughes’s “A Dream Deferred.” Bravo, Dr. Ross, and thank you — for everything.

Heather Moulton, Professor of English at Central Arizona College, at 5:30 pm EDT on June 9, 2007

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Assistant, Assoc. or Full Professor
Princeton University

Position Summary: The Department of Psychology at Princeton University anticipates making an appointment in ... see job

Advanced Assistant or Associate Professor, Painting and Drawing
University of Colorado

Posting Description: Advanced Assistant or Associate Professor, Painting and Drawing The Department of Art ... see job

Research Fellow, Brain Appetite Regulation
University of Minnesota, Twin Cities

The University of Minnesota is a premier employer and a talent magnet attracting leading faculty and staff from around the ... see job

Research Technician III
University of Georgia

Job Summary This posiiton is a technical research position in the Department of Veterinary Pathology. The ... see job

Open Rank Professor — Policy Unit
University of California, Los Angeles

The Policy Unit of the UCLA Anderson School of Management is seeking to fill one position in the general field of Strategy see job

Psychology, Personal Growth, Counseling Noncredit Adjunct Faculty Pool
Howard Community College

Howard Community College is building a pool of applicants for adjunct faculty positions in Continuing Education in the areas ... see job

Counselor — Tenure Track(12 Months), York Campus
Harrisburg Area Community College

HACC, a leader in education in Central PA, is a comprehensive, multi-campus community college, providing quality instruction ... see job

Senior Scientist
University of Minnesota, Twin Cities