Academics in Summer
One of the questions academics get asked a lot at this time of year -- by non-academics -- is "are you done with work yet?"
Ah. How to answer.
There's no point to getting uppity whilst answering, since the questioner means nothing bitchy by it (I suppose), but the implication SEEMS to be, at least, that since one is an academic, one gets the summer off.
And is, I guess, sitting around by the pool rereading Jane Eyre. Or whatever it is that people think academics do.
Now, the set-up will differ from place to place, but it's true that technically I get paid for 9 months out of the year. So, theoretically, if I WANTED to sit around by the pool all summer rereading Jane Eyre, I could.
Right.
That's not what happens, though. For one thing, there's a lot of writing to do, and summer is when most of it gets done. And there's a lot of work-related reading to do, and summer is when most of it gets done. And even though it's summer, we end up being on Ph.D. exams, and reading dissertations, and writing emergency recommendations, and stuff like that. Oh, and there are the fall classes to plan.
So, no, work's not over. It just changes form; we're not in the classroom, unless we signed on to teach summer school.
On the other hand, it IS true that when the schedule shifts, we have more control -- not full control, but more control -- over our own little daily plans. I don't have any meetings today. No, really, I don't have any meetings today. No, wait, I made one, last night, with a Ph.D. student who needs to see me. Ok, one meeting. But that's all.
So I have more time to go to the gym, and write the little blog, and see what everybody else is up to.*
But then I'll be finishing up some articles, and I'll be making reservations for the research trip to England,** and I'll be deciding what plays we're going to be wrassling in the "Drama and Politics" course. But I only have one meeting.
But I'm working! I'm working! It's not a vacation! I'm just not teaching. In the classroom.
*******************************
*Here's what they're up to:
Because Sara at Going Jesus is studying to be an Episcopalian deacon, she gets to swing incense burners around in a solemn and holy manner. It is a sad thing to discover that such a blessed and sacred event in somebody else's life causes me to fall so deeply into the sin of Envy, but there you are. We learn something about ourselves every day. The depths of my shallowness are a wonder to behold.
But wait! There's more! Because the Cranky Professor is the Faculty Marshall over at his place of employment, he gets to carry the mace in the processional. I suppose it's marginally better to be struck by envy on account of somebody else's participation in an academic ritual rather than a holy one, but really, it's not by much. ALSO! I am reminded that once the Cranky Professor got to work with a trebuchet that is significantly larger than mine, which is mostly good for lobbing corks off the deck into the herb garden. I was envious then, too, though I've pretty much gotten over it.
Sad, sad. I'm so flawed.
Now, here's what I want. I want a chance to wear all my fancy regalia, AND hold the mace, AND swing the incense around. I know this ritual is out there somewhere. I just need to find out how to get in on it.
**Those of you who enjoyed my last research trip will be happy to know I've got to do it again, in June. This time, it's Lincoln, Northampton, and Huntington which will be graced by the presence of me. If you're in those areas, let me know. We'll do tea.
Ah. How to answer.
There's no point to getting uppity whilst answering, since the questioner means nothing bitchy by it (I suppose), but the implication SEEMS to be, at least, that since one is an academic, one gets the summer off.
And is, I guess, sitting around by the pool rereading Jane Eyre. Or whatever it is that people think academics do.
Now, the set-up will differ from place to place, but it's true that technically I get paid for 9 months out of the year. So, theoretically, if I WANTED to sit around by the pool all summer rereading Jane Eyre, I could.
Right.
That's not what happens, though. For one thing, there's a lot of writing to do, and summer is when most of it gets done. And there's a lot of work-related reading to do, and summer is when most of it gets done. And even though it's summer, we end up being on Ph.D. exams, and reading dissertations, and writing emergency recommendations, and stuff like that. Oh, and there are the fall classes to plan.
So, no, work's not over. It just changes form; we're not in the classroom, unless we signed on to teach summer school.
On the other hand, it IS true that when the schedule shifts, we have more control -- not full control, but more control -- over our own little daily plans. I don't have any meetings today. No, really, I don't have any meetings today. No, wait, I made one, last night, with a Ph.D. student who needs to see me. Ok, one meeting. But that's all.
So I have more time to go to the gym, and write the little blog, and see what everybody else is up to.*
But then I'll be finishing up some articles, and I'll be making reservations for the research trip to England,** and I'll be deciding what plays we're going to be wrassling in the "Drama and Politics" course. But I only have one meeting.
But I'm working! I'm working! It's not a vacation! I'm just not teaching. In the classroom.
*******************************
*Here's what they're up to:
Because Sara at Going Jesus is studying to be an Episcopalian deacon, she gets to swing incense burners around in a solemn and holy manner. It is a sad thing to discover that such a blessed and sacred event in somebody else's life causes me to fall so deeply into the sin of Envy, but there you are. We learn something about ourselves every day. The depths of my shallowness are a wonder to behold.
But wait! There's more! Because the Cranky Professor is the Faculty Marshall over at his place of employment, he gets to carry the mace in the processional. I suppose it's marginally better to be struck by envy on account of somebody else's participation in an academic ritual rather than a holy one, but really, it's not by much. ALSO! I am reminded that once the Cranky Professor got to work with a trebuchet that is significantly larger than mine, which is mostly good for lobbing corks off the deck into the herb garden. I was envious then, too, though I've pretty much gotten over it.
Sad, sad. I'm so flawed.
Now, here's what I want. I want a chance to wear all my fancy regalia, AND hold the mace, AND swing the incense around. I know this ritual is out there somewhere. I just need to find out how to get in on it.
**Those of you who enjoyed my last research trip will be happy to know I've got to do it again, in June. This time, it's Lincoln, Northampton, and Huntington which will be graced by the presence of me. If you're in those areas, let me know. We'll do tea.
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