Love and scandal are the best sweeteners of tea. —Henry Fielding

20 September 2005

Job Frustration

I spent the day at Cal Poly Pomona for the most part. Nowadays, I'm part-time faculty there, if you hadn't heard. 'Course, I still work my forty hours a week at the airport, so it's a little difficult to spend the amount of time there that I would like. On a whim I called in sick to the airport and went to the school to take care of stuff for my employment (visit HR, buy a parking pass, that kind of thing) and try to meet a little bit with the production manager for my new show.

The meeting with the production manager was great. She's the new head of design at CSUP and she seems quite eager, excited and clear-headed. She also seems like she will be a really good teacher and a willing mentor to younger design students. It was kind of energizing, really. In fact, the whole day really excited me and I'm very glad I decided to spend my day working there.

As I was there I kept thinking how much I wish I could do it full time: be faculty at a university, even CSUP. I keep thinking: I don't make that much at the airport, not much at all, and even if CSUP paid me bare minimum for teaching, say, twelve units... while it wouldn't quite match up to what the airport pays me, I could get by. I could, and I would be so much happier. And it would only be twelve units. I'm not sure how possible that is, but that's what would have to happen. It'll be different, I guess, when I have a real degree that means something. Twelve units just seems like nothing.

I was in the department, meeting with Linda, meeting with Bill, talking with Joyce, talking with Marie, bothering Dennis, meeting with the new design lady (her name is Elizabeth), and then I met two new freshmen who were at orientation and I had a short meeting with a student who's going to be my stage manager for the show and then another student came up to talk to me. I have an office now, or rather I share one with the five other part-time faculty, but I was the only one there today so I had it all to myself. I took the student into the office and we just talked. She's juggling a lot this next quarter and needed to talk through her problems and asked my advice on how to do it and needed help finding an audition piece. This girl was struggling and I was actually able to help her out: in short, do my job as a faculty member and give this young lady advice and comfort and encouragement. Whenever this happens, I am reminded that this is where I belong: doing the job of a teacher.

It all seems so clear, but it is all so impossible in my present position.
See, they aren't paying me for twelve units: not even close.
They're paying me for one unit.
I can't afford to give advice; I can't afford to teach.
I can't afford to quit my other job.

I can only afford to show up at 6:30p after my hour-and-a-half commute from Burbank.

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