Usually, I don’t need articles on some journal website to tell me what to think. However, they can confirm thoughts and feelings I have, like some of Thomas Benton’s articles on the Chronicles of Higher Education, especially “The Big Lie About the ‘Life of the Mind,” “Graduate School in the Humanities: Just Don’t Go,” and “If You Must Go To Grad School.” Perhaps if I read these articles before ever throwing together a portfolio to apply to a graduate creative writing program, I would not have applied at all. Actually, I’m more stubborn than that. I’m the type who has to put my hand on the stove and get burned instead of listening to someone who tells me that it’s hot.
Some of my first posts for ShindoTV were about the burn from the stove. Having gotten out of the MFA program and finding myself in adjunct hell (which I strangely bought into some bait & switch scheme in my thesis year), I regretted ever enrolling. I issued a warning and then proceeded to write about my experiences, especially some dramatic ones. For the grand price of admission, a $50K student loan, I found that I gained plenty of experiences compared to my sheltered life of my undergrad years, but very little to show for it. I made friends, met nefarious professors, and even had some god-awful jobs with the clientele to go with them. I could have gotten two of the three without going to school. Actually, no. I definitely could have made friends anywhere, but some of those crappy jobs involved students.
If you asked me ten years ago what I wanted to do with my English major, I would have told you writing. Given that being a writer can be a gigantic crap shoot, aspiring writers in college hedge their dream by choosing some career that will provide them with an income that will suck up their days while they do their writing at night, play weekend warrior with the craft, or both. All I wanted to do was get out of the grocery store job that helped finance my college education. Early in the program, I found myself playing assistant editor in a university press magazine ran by a self-serving professor. Somehow, my experience never transferred to the non-academic sector. Teaching, however, was the ultimate hedge.
When I studied in undergraduate creative writing workshops, I thought it would be great to teach aspiring writers. I would be a nurturing professor, not those evil teachers who crush and destroy those kids whose only dream is to be the next Bukowski or whoever else young writers are fond of reading these days. When I finally got my chance as a TA with an intro creative writing class, I found that I had a class that was too big, strange demands put on me to teach both fiction and poetry, and some unruly students, especially a bitch named Mindy Shatner. Unfortunately, those negatives have overshadowed the positives for me in the course, such as that with some students, I really did succeed in my objectives.
Given that first experience, I’m surprised I came back for more. I did a TA’ship for an Intro to Lit course and got in trouble for grade inflation for the sections I taught. The professor was not pleased with me and even sent me an e-mail with “this is the university, not summer camp.” Really? Yes, the university was solidly accredited, but as far as it being a bastion of higher learning… Don’t make me laugh.
I even did an internship program for those who want to teach community college. It was a program coordinated with all the districts in the county and I took it up for resume fodder. I worked for free one semester and got a paying class the next. For someone who was finishing up grad school, I was making more money than I did with my crappy university gigs. The reality was one class really didn’t pay much, though I’d get a better sense of this after graduating and then trying to cobble together an income.
The one thing I dislike about the adjunct lifestyle is that I didn’t go to grad school to try to hustle up a living with multiple jobs. This was the type of thing people do when their jobs are completely inadequate to live on. This is the treadmill the working poor find themselves on. Education, it seems, provides no exemption to this demographic. At times I bitch too much about it. I want to jump off this boat.
I’ve tried a couple of times to leave adjunct teaching. Once, I got a job in some non-profit’s mailroom, which was short lived. When that job fell through, I sent many resumes, which seemed to go to the digital bin. Occasionally, I had an interview, but no offer. Even though I didn’t wholeheartedly want to return to it, my teaching experience was more of a sure sell as I courted various colleges’ department chairs. I’ve recently accepted a night course for purely mercenary reasons – I need the money.
Looking back, I could have learned about writing on my own without college or the MFA. There are enough books on the craft of creative writing and even some silly motivational ones to keep an aspiring writer going. Finding other people who were interested in writing has never been that difficult, so it’s possible to create a community without expensive programs. As for a literary education, I don’t doubt I could have gained more from reading without a professor telling me what to think and what to write in a bluebook.
I wish I could say I’m taking a positive turn from this chapter in my life, that I am bravely going into my post-academic life. I wish I could follow that glib advice “If you don’t like your job, leave.” Yeah, easier said than done, especially when jobs are really hard to come by. If I had a time machine, perhaps I would retcon my life. Somehow, I have a feeling I’d still burn my hand on the stove.
I hear you. But I burned my hand on the stove by *not* going to grad school. Unlike you, I hardly ever bump into writers in my life and when I do, I feel like they’re rescuing me from a desert island. The other night, my wife and I had dinner with an actor/singer friend of hers and his wife, who just happened to be an editor and a *major* publisher. All I could do was bite my tongue the entire night to avoid blurting out “I HAVE TEN NOVELS! LET ME SHOW YOU THEM!!!” I was like a living LOLCat in my head.
Somehow, by not going back to school, or by not staying in any way academic, I’ve accomplished a lot of writing, but have found myself fairly isolated from the business I want to be in. I hope to have more dinners with my wife’s actor/singer friend and his wife, but my last paid gig as a writer was over ten years ago. It’s gotten pretty lonely and I’ve basically forgotten how to network and have very few opportunities to do so.
So, I think in the end, there are benefits and drawbacks to no matter what one chooses. I also think individual results may vary. Who knows how much worse or better it really could have been if you had skipped grad school?
Now that you’ve bandaged up your hand, what’s your plan now?
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Hi Shindo. I think we’re in the same boat, having graduated from the same school with a slightly different emphasis (MA). I don’t think that your experience is unique. There are many like us who are living through this bizzare experience (too much education and debt and zero opportunity). I believe there are more factors involved in this equation, some which you have overlooked. I would love to chat with you about this. E-mail me.
Adios,
BBJ