The house organ for all wokeness, all the time, republishes an August 2024 lament, "
The Summer Break That Isn’t." The author, one Susannah M. Givens, is not dealing with the proliferation of journals to keep current with or the gift of an uninterrupted morning of reading and writing time. In her community college environment, the distractions keep coming all the same.
Don’t get me wrong. My summers are not miserable. They are the opposite, usually involving time with family and friends, traveling, reading and gardening. But in the midst of all of that, resentment festers within as I realize all over again the unstated expectation that I also work through summer for no pay.
What I really want someone to ask when I return for fall is “Did your summer leave you feeling rested and ready for the new academic year?” Maybe then I would reply more honestly. I envision myself boldly responding, “No. In fact, I feel underappreciated. My work is not valued. Summer made me realize how my time has been disrespected for many years. My tank is half-full because I have been volunteering my time to keep up with emails, policy changes, advising, meetings and grant work all summer. At this point, I hope I make it to winter break.”
This isn’t just my individual experience. My reality is widespread. I don’t claim to speak for all faculty members, but I know that from colleagues at other institutions, from the many books I’ve read, from the private online groups where I have lurked and from the many podcast episodes I have heard.
Her discontent is not about the inconsistent deliveries of the Journal of Trivial Results whether in print or on the server. It's the deanlets.
The emails don’t stop. Students need advising. Faculty are encouraged to attend meetings in person and virtually. Administrators need replies to various requests. And if I don’t keep up, I could miss something—a policy change or new initiative—that might have a negative impact on my students or me. I worry about not attending a meeting where an announcement could be quietly dropped while faculty are not paying full attention. What might I be missing? This question looms over the summer.
And the deanlets have to justify their existence. "Faculty cannot set boundaries if administrators keep overstepping them, and it is time for administrators to take the lead in changing the culture."
The faculty have to
set boundaries, whether by letting the electronic mail fester or by asking if that midsummer meeting is necessary. "Summer shut-down has been a fact of life for what, 100 years? And in that time nobody has figured out how to deal with most of the routine business by May 15?"
It's likely too much to ask of Inside Higher Ed contributors that they call attention to all the intrusive diversity and special education stuff that make teaching more of a pain than it has to be.
Set those boundaries. Tell those deanlets to sod off.