STIPIMM: “Sad Professor,” by R.E.M.For the past several years, whenever anyone’s asked me what I do for a living, I’ve never quite known what to say. Since we moved to Boston, all of my jobs have been designed to be temporary. Sure, I did layout for
H&R Block, but it was only on a contract basis; I could never bring myself to say I was a “graphic designer.” I tested software for
Avid, but calling myself a “software tester” would have been silly, since I only did it for a few months. I’ve been editing
Commit to the Line since we got to Boston, and I’ve been paid for that, but it certainly hasn’t paid the bills enough for me to call myself a professional editor.
And then there’s teaching. I started doing it again a year ago at
two, and eventually
three, different schools in and around Boston. However, since I was being split between different locations, it still felt weird to say I was doing it full-time (even though, time-wise, I was well in excess of what most would call full-time). And then again, there’s the “professor” issue. My title at all these places was “adjunct professor,” which technically gave me the right to call myself professor; indeed, plenty of students used that title whenever speaking to me (when they weren’t calling me
“Dude”). But to me, a professor is something completely different than what I was. A professor is someone who has office hours in an actual office, not at an adjunct desk. A professor is someone with a permanent presence at a college, someone with institutional authority. Even though I was working at it
50-60 hours a week, I could never bring myself to tell people that I was a “professor.” Usually, I would say, “I teach at a couple of colleges in town,” or, if I needed to give a title, I would often just say “instructor.”
No more. Today I signed a contract with the
New England Institute of Art making me a full-time faculty member in the departments of Digital Filmmaking & Video Production and Photography. I am now officially, with no asterisks, a college professor.
Okay, one asterisk: my title is
“assistant professor,” as it is with all starting out full-timers across the country. But still, I can now bring myself to answer the question “What do you do for a living?” with “I’m a college professor” without a little voice in the back of my head saying “Well... you’re
kind of a professor…”
Truth be told, in most respects, I’ve already been a full-time assistant professor at NEIA. I’ve been teaching so many classes per semester that HR already thought I was full-time
by default. And at NEIA, unlike at other colleges, the title of assistant professor can also be given to adjuncts; I received that title earlier this year. However, even then, I never quite felt like a professor. And now I can.
But… I don’t. The idea that I’m a college professor hasn’t quite sunk in completely. My mental image of what a professor is, or at least should be, is hard to shake. They’re supposed to be especially distinguished in their field, having done a large amount of research or creative work, and carry with them a wealth of knowledge that is undeniable. I do know quite a bit, but I hardly consider myself an authority on anything. I know it’s hard on myself to say so, but knowing what I do about myself, I’d be peeved if I had me as a professor – “This guy’s making it up as he goes along!” “Have you seen his last movie? It’s totally unwatchable!” I’m reminded of the
Groucho Marx quote: “I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member.”
On the other hand, knowing this about myself has made me think a lot and look back on the professors I used to have. One of my favorite film professors hadn’t done anything particularly distinguished in his area for almost 10 years, while still another hadn’t had one of his screenplays fully produced in over a decade. This makes me feel a little bit better about my prospects as a professor, but it also makes me quite sad and a little worried. How easy it would be to get settled into this nice job, which pays me more than I’ve ever made in my life, and just ride the wave, doing some video work for the college here and there, performing service for the school in general, and never achieve anything else in film and video. And when I say achieve, I mean success in independent filmmaking.
Fact is, I don’t want to be a professor forever. And I’m sure many of my colleagues also would much rather be able to make a living doing their art rather than having to spend
40+ hours a week teaching their up-and-coming competition. But the economic realities of life demand that we find something that pays the bills, and while it’s not the same as producing films, teaching in my fields is an exceptional way for me to stay current in my field, talk about movies and photography on a daily basis, learn something every single day, and yes, share in the excitement (when all works well) when people learn how to do the art for the first time.
But I will continue to work in my off hours to get that outside
success I crave. And indeed, one of the nice things about colleges is that they want their faculty to succeed, and usually bend over backwards to help them out. Even so, I long for the day when I can do some brand of filmmaking full-time, and I hope I never settle for my cushy teaching job just because I’m tired of trying. As Bridget points out, I’ve achieved a hell of a lot after being out of grad school for just two years. Maybe so, but there’s still a lot
left to do.
