Thanks but No Thanks

Guess who had his first in-person interview on Tuesday! And guess who is going to turn down the job of his own free will. I'll give you a hint - it's not John Lithgow.

Back in November, in a fit of desperation, I applied for adjunct positions at four area colleges for the Spring 09 semester. I had hoped to earn some decent money on the side while searching for more gainful employment. This was before my recent decision to go to Pitt for my teaching certification. When I didn't hear anything from them, I wasn't really surprised, but I did despair over the fact that I couldn't even get a job in something for which I was fabulously qualified. Then early last week, one of the places I applied to, a Penn State branch campus no less, called me. The woman on the phone wanted to know if I was interested in being a part-time English instructor in the Fall 09 semester. She asked me if I was available for an in-person interview.

I was flummoxed. For the last ten months, I've wanted nothing more than for someone to call me to offer me money-dollars. I would have gouged out my own pyloric sphincter and donated it to a self-aggrandizing hipster if it meant getting a job. But the timing couldn't have been worse. In the fall semester, I'll be at Pitt learning how to become a stooge for the local school districts. The Penn State campus in question is about an hour and fifteen minutes away from Pitt, so that wouldn't exactly be around the corner.

Against all advice from the "Job Hunting for Idiots" books I read, I explained all of this to the woman on the phone, and I expected her to hang up, disgusted with my lack of commitment to higher education. But she was persistent. "Oh don't worry about it," she said. "Come on in anyway. We can talk about the job, and it'll be good interviewing experience. I always tell my son that any interview is worth taking for the experience." I couldn't really argue with that, and her damned folksy demeanor made her seem so gosh darn nice!

So two days ago, I finally got to put on the suit I got for my job interviews (back when I thought my calendar would be packed with them). While I realize that the majority of men don't like wearing formal attire, I LOVE wearing a suit. I always feel like a man with dreams, hopes, and a hedge fund. So feeling suitably professional and adult-like, I made the trip to the PA/Ohio border to what I have decided to be the dingiest Penn State campus I had ever seen. The entire college appeared to be converted from an old high school. I think my meeting was in what used to be the gymnasium. In any case, This mousy little woman in her mid-forties introduces herself as the English Department Chair. She then marvels at my formal-wear: "Well look at you! Aren't we handsome today!" I immediately felt like I was about to have cookies at grandma's house rather than interviewing for a job.

But if this woman was grandma.... the crazy uncle that no one trusts around the kids was about to arrive.

After setting me up in the conference room and getting me some water (sippy cup not included this time), the woman informs me that her colleague will be joining us shortly. We don't have to wait long. Bursting through the door comes this magnificent man decked out in black jeans, a leather coat (it's 65 degrees outside) and square humanities-major glasses. He's got this puffy white hair that's gelled and pointing somewhere behind him and a good distance above his head. His matching goatee would have made Colonel Sanders weep. He looked like some hybrid of Eddie Izzard and Billy Connolly. Go ahead and do a Google Image search for those two. You'll get the idea.

The two of them tell me that they're the entire full-time English department. I chuckle at what I assume to be a joke, but they're not laughing. Apparently Grandma teaches all of the low-level classes, and Captain Beefheart teaches the upper-level ones. This was easily the saddest English department I'd ever seen... and they wanted ME for their despondent team.

The grandmotherly woman tries her best to keep the interview professsional by asking me about my resume and such, but Batshit Insane English Guy kept jumping in with intellectual musings about the nature of the interview process. He likes to think of interviews as "vocational conversations." He then went on to mock the entire Penn State system, their job benefits, the faculty salaries, and stupid people. As Virgil well knows, any wacky old professor who can't stay on topic to save his life gets an A+ in my book. This guy was extremely honest about their little campus, much to the consternation of Sweet Grandma Lady.

I knew going into this interview that my chances of accepting this job were pretty slim. It was just too far away, and I knew far too well that the time commitment for teaching two undergraduate classes was nothing to sneeze at. But I wanted to treat this like a real interview so that I could get some real practice. Needless to say, that didn't happen. Instead, I kept getting even more reasons to avoid this job offer like the plague. Not only did they want me to travel all this way to teach two classes, but they would be two different classes, which would require two different lesson plans for each class. One of the classes they wanted me to teach was Business Writing, and that just completely blew my mind. If I knew anything about communicating in the business world, I sure as hell wouldn't be in my current situation.

But the capper was the salary. I knew part-time adjuncts didn't make much money, but I never truly appreciated the definition of a "pittance." I would only receive $2000 for each class... for the entire semester!!! That's $4000 for four months of work. I made more than that as a graduate student, which is sadder than sad.

By the time the interview was over, I was 100% certain that I didn't want this job. However, there was one problem: THEY BOTH LOVED ME! They told me that they would be eagerly recommending me to their superiors. Fortunately, they were realistic enough to say that they'd understand if I didn't want to do it. Colonel Wacky jumped in with a lengthy diatribe about how adjunct salaries should be higher. There's nothing worse than disappointing people who are truly nice and wonderful people and who are kissing your ass just the way you like it to be kissed. So I told them that I didn't have all the information about my schedule for the fall (which is true) and that I would get back to them once I did.

Coming out of that interview, only one feeling really gripped me and wouldn't let go: unadulterated guilt. This campus clearly catered to certain.... less-than-stellar students who were being taught by understaffed, underappreciated, and underpaid teachers. Clearly I was a star candidate, which must say something about their usual crop of applicants. These two seemed like genuinely enthusiastic, supportive, and intelligent teachers who really wanted to do well by their students, and I got the impression that this school was in desperate need of good instructors. I felt like a heel knowing that I'd be turning down their offer.

Of course, the guilt won't stop me from rejecting them, but I'll feel really bad as I'm doing it.

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"Did everything just taste purple for a second?"