Showing posts with label Robin Morgan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robin Morgan. Show all posts

06 November 2009

More Games

Yesterday I experienced the first real case of rage I've had since my operation. When I got to the college, I couldn't look at or talk to anybody until I got into my classrooms.

The games haven't ended with that coordinator, whom I'll call Laura. The department's secretary, whom I'll call Deena, has been complaining to our department chair essentially because I ask questions, bring things to her attention and am persistent. I know she's busy, but sometimes I have a legitimate question, such as: When a document--in this case, my class schedule for next semseter--contains two contradictory pieces of information, which one do you believe? Or do you belive neither?

When I asked her, you'd have thought that I was asking her to eat one of her children. She was screaming at me. But of course, I can't say anything about that to the department chair or the college administration. However, because I unwittingly approached her at a bad time last week, she felt absolutely free to not only complain to the chair, she had no compunction about embellishing the story by saying that I cursed at her. She'll probably tell a similar kind of story to the chair, if she hasn't already, mainly because she knows the chair will take her word over mine.

People sometimes tell me I "read too much into things." But after that experience I had with the prof a few days ago, and the accusatory tone the chair uses when speaking to me, even though she hasn't the slightest bit of evidence but someone's word of any wrongdoing on my part, I really think that someone or some people are trying to drive me out of that place.

I guess I should take some comfort in knowing that I'm not the only one who feels that way. Last week, "Cathy" told me, "They're looking for flaws in my breathing." She's been at the college for almost twenty years, fifteen of them as an adjunct instructor. Now she's been getting grief from that same coordinator who made the false accusations against me earlier this week. Why is this coordinator breathing down her neck? Well, that coordinator observed her class and wrote a report, which included the claim that this prof is lax in her job because a student came late to class. Hmm...I guess we, as profs, have control over train schedules, traffic jams and such.

And not only did Cathy have to endure such a stupid evaluation from Laura; she also has been to hear the department chair tell her that she should "look for a job closer to home." The chair did not elaborate; Cathy's evaluations have been overwhelmingly positive and students seek her out.
Now, Cathy and I aren't in league in any conspiracies. Neither of us has ever had any wish to usurp anyone's power. Yet administrative people in our department have treated us with the same combination of defensiveness and accusation.


We both came up with a possible reason why we're being treated the way we are. We're both bigger-than-average women, both of us have gone through things that have nearly cost us our lives and we just won't take condsecension or duplicity from anyone, much less someone who's young enough to be one of our children.


Mind you, the ones who are trying to make "Cathy" and me pawns in their games are the very sorts of people who purport to be paragons of tolerance and open-mindedness. And "Laura" calls herself a feminist.


Yet they want two women with advanced degrees and who are writers to be academic versions of Harriet Nelson. They want us small-framed, wasp-waisted and utterly submissive: We're not supposed to speak up for anything or anyone, much less ourselves. And, if we are creative or have any original ideas, we're supposed to smile as they take our ideas as their own. After all, it's for the "greater good"---of their careers

02 November 2009

Have the Games Begun?


Today I saw my evaluation report. It was good, though it could have been better. In a way, though, I'm not upset: I'm doing the best I can by my students, and most of them appreciate that. I once had an excellent evaluation when I taught one of the worst classes I taught in my life (I'm talking about my own performance, not the students.) and, at another school, I got trashed when I did a good, if not great, class.

I also received my schedule for next semester. I'm not happy with it: I really think the coordinator tried to make it as untenable as she possibly could for me. She seems to have designed it so that I have no useful blocks of time to do the extracurricular work I've been doing, sometimes in conjunction with her as well as other department members.No one else in the department has anything like it.

I haven't talked to her at length this semester, or spent any other significant amount of time around her. However, the couple of times I've seen her, it seemed that she didn't even want to look my way. She used to be rather friendly toward me, and she was happy that I participated in Women's History month events.

Maybe she's upset with me for having the operation. I haven't talked to her about it, and I never told her I was having it. But I'm sure she's heard about it from other people. And I always suspected she was an Andrea Dworkin acolyte.

It figures that there would be somebody like that. At least I was warned. But I don't understand how someone could have liked me when I was in transition, but not now.

Oh well. At least I haven't, in a long time, lived by the illusion that education makes people more tolerant or accepting. After all, I lost two friends during my transition. And both of them had PhDs--one of them in gender studies!

In a way, though, I guess I can't judge them, or anyone else, too much. I had long suspected that going through my transition and surgery would cause me to re-evaluate, or at least re-think, some things in my life. Maybe that coordinator is doing the same thing with me. I always suspected she was a feminist along the lines of Robin Morgan, who hates transgender women because, well, we have that little "M" on our birth certificates.

It's really odd, to me, that someone can like, or at least tolerate someone like me when we're in transition but not after we start living full-time or having our operations. I guess when we're in transition, they can patronize us, which is to say that instead of covering themselves in white hoods and sheets, they wear the masks of toleration.

Also, I think that coordinator liked me better when I was teaching only part-time in the department. I noticed that she cooled somewhat toward me after I became a full-timer. But I don't think she even acknowledged my existence this semester until she made up that schedule.

Things might be getting interesting right about now.