I have a buddy who, some time around May starts asking: “Well professor, you about done yet?” He smiles, the twinkle in his eyes suggesting that he is at once jealous of my upcoming summer vacation, and also of the opinion that I am not worthy, that I am a privileged professor, not working as hard as “regular people” with “real jobs,” and am undeserving of this annual respite.
It doesn’t matter how many times I explain it to him. People believe what they want to believe.
There are various stereotypes and misperceptions about college professors, and his is a common one. It stems from the mistaken belief that we are an elite version of K-12 teachers. We are not. And when I say this, I mean it with only the utmost respect for teachers, including my mother, who taught high school English for three decades. In no way do I mean to rank professors above teachers. Rather, I am merely pointing out that, while there is some overlap between the two professions, they are most decidedly not the same job.
Teachers are called teachers because that is by far and away most of what they do. They teach. That includes not just time spent in the classroom with students, but also everything that goes into it outside the classroom, from the hard work of preparing lessons to the mundane task of grading papers and exams. All of it constitutes teaching.
Teachers teach a lot. While some people rib them for getting off at 3:00 and not having to work over the summer, hopefully most Americans understand just how intense the job of teaching is, particularly in a K-12 setting. Not only are the hours long when one adds all the non-classroom work that goes into it, but the truth is many people don’t have the emotional, psychological, or mental makeup to spend 45 minutes in a room trying to get 30 children to learn something, much less do it five times a day, five days a week. K-12 teachers need summers off simply so they don’t burn out. There aren’t that many people in the world who could productively do the job for very long if they had to do it year round.
Professors, however, are not teachers, and they don’t really get summers off. Rather, teaching is only part of our job description, and for some it is a minority of what they do. How much a professor teaches depends on the school. At prominent research schools it might be only a third of the job or less. At a community college it might make up more than three-quarters of the job. But for all professors, there are other forms of work that must be attended to.
The additional work everyone knows about is research. We conduct research and publish our findings. But how much research you do depends again on the type of school you work at. The less you teach, the more you research and visa versa.
There is a third component we all do called service. Essentially, it is administrative work that helps the school function. We serve on committees, advise students, write book reviews, critique manuscripts, and do a dozen other little things that demand our time and attention. How much service a professor performs tends to depend on the individual. If a person is drawn to such work, there’s more than enough to keep you happy. Others shy away from it, but we all must do it.
I work at Towson University, a state school in Maryland. It is a comprehensive university, meaning I teach more than I would at a research school, and I research and publish more than I would at community college. During a semester I teach three courses (though they’re threatening to add a fourth). Each class meets 150 minutes per week, spread over two or three days. In history, grading also takes a considerable amount of time since we assign written work exclusively. Add to that the various service work, and it becomes very difficult to do much research or writing during the semester, unlike many friends of mine at research schools who have reduced teaching loads and grading help from graduate student teaching assistants, which I do not have. Then again, they are required to publish more than I am and also shepherd doctoral candidates, so it all evens out.
And that brings us back to summer.
No matter how much my buddy’s eye twinkles, his image of me wiling away June, July, and August on a beach with an endless stream of Tom Collins brought to me by cabana boys, is a pure figment of his imagination. Today, like most summer days, I spent hours in my office, researching and writing, because I cannot get much of it done during the academic year.
This is in no way, shape, or form a complaint. Quite to the contrary, I love my job. I enjoy what I do, I have somewhat flexible hours, and I get to work from home quite a bit. I’m very fortunate to be in this position. It does, however, have an implication for this blog.
As I enter my first summer since starting The Public Professor, I am beginning to realize that the strict schedule for postings I adhered to during the academic year will not do during the summer. In a recent post, I extolled the glory of summer’s flexibility, and I must now take my cue from that.
Over the next ten weeks, instead of posting original material every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, I will post more irregularly. Why? Because when it comes to academic researching and writing, I have to honor hot streaks. Summer is the only time I have to really delve into it, and I cannot allow writing for the blog to interfere with writing for work.
So. I will continue to blog at The Public Professor, but for the remainder of the summer, the schedule will be on ice, and the quantity is up for grabs. If I’m on an academic jag, you may not hear from me. If something grabs my attention and demands a reaction, I will post. The only exception is Monday’s Art for No Reason, which will continue as scheduled. The Facebook page will also remain active.
When the academic year resumes in September, so will the regular schedule. Until then, we will meet now and again, as the fates would entwine us from time to time. In the meantime, if you do make it to the beach, make sure the cabana boy brings you something cold.
Enjoy your summer.