“You must find the courage to leave the table where respect is no longer being served.” – Tene Edwards

An open letter to San Diego community colleges:

                  I write these words with an eye toward Southwestern Community College because I have the most experience with that institution. I know, or have been told, of similar problems throughout the county and beyond. These compounded problems have pushed me to leave the community college system and push for its reformation.

                  I commence by entirely denouncing the current practice of adjunct professorships, particularly its exploitation in favor of hiring full-time professors. The original purpose of an adjunct was to fill the gap between the number of available professors and the number of classes required by the college, and it often allowed working professionals an opportunity to teach specialized courses students might otherwise have missed. These are admirable goals, ones I fully endorse.

                  The current system, however, has abandoned such noble aspirations and abuses adjunct professors as a cost-saving tool. By cutting the salaries of instructors—the backbone of any higher education institution—administrators can offer other services to students, such as free tuition, while increasing their own incomes. Administrative expenditures, primarily in the form of salaries, have ballooned in direct relation to the growth of adjunct professor rosters, and this is no coincidence: Adjunct professors are far cheaper than full-time ones.

                  Hiring an abundance of adjunct professors directly enriches a small minority of the college landscape while destroying a much greater majority and, interestingly, undermining the quality of graduates produced by such colleges. This process must not—it cannot—continue.

                  I served as an adjunct chemistry professor throughout San Diego for about a year, and I observed numerous effects throughout that build a frustrating picture of indentured servitude that ultimately defeats the stated mission of a community college.

                  To begin, each school or college limits the hours an adjunct may work, an arbitrary legal limit under which we are treated as contract employees. Despite the high hourly wage, these limits force us to seek employment elsewhere, either at other schools or outside the collegiate system. Personally, I required two colleges—preferably three—in order to survive. This means I answered to multiple bosses in several locations, among whom policies differed widely. Such contracts are written a semester at a time at each school, without any guarantee of continuation. This introduces an incredible amount of eternal stress from the unknown, a precarious situation for even the well-adjusted. To add insult to injury, even once enough contracts are secured, they can be re-written or even cancelled days before a semester begins, as happened to me this summer. Rather than shifting classes, say from an overload full-time professor, I simply lost a quarter of my income.

                  The impacts of teaching at multiple locations are even more far-reaching. This county is large, its schools widely spread, so adjuncts must travel great distances to make classes. Instead of spending breaks between courses networking with colleagues or holding office hours, we frequently spend several hours a week on the freeway, consuming quick meals and trying to remember all materials. Of course, things invariably disappear: I cannot count on how many occasions graded papers, demonstrations, and lecture notes vanished in the rush between locations. This also adds a financial stress due to increased maintenance and fuel costs on an already tight budget, while fundamentally undermining the education students receive.

                  Even more frustrating was the pay disparity between supposed colleagues, to which was previously alluded. Full-time professors begin careers making slightly less than $60,000 annually at a minimum. As an adjunct with classes at two schools last year might draw in closer to $30,000, similar to what I earned previously. I performed the same type and nearly the same amount of work—albeit without committee and staff meeting requirements—for slightly more than half the pay. In addition to raw salary, full-time professors earn benefits that can run upwards of $600 per month. Benefits are not offered adjunct professors at all, with some exceptions. Adjuncts must, therefore, purchase their own benefits or simply do without, a further financial burden. In addition, full-time professors continue to draw a salary during the various breaks between semesters. With adjuncts, the semester’s end means the contract’s end, so adjunct professors must find other work, live off savings, or apply for unemployment. As humiliating at the final option is, it generally delivers the best results.

                  A further issue was the overall attitude of the administration when discussing grievances. When I mentioned these injustices, I received remarks such as “adjuncting isn’t a real job anyway” and “maybe something better will come along soon.” This fall, as one campus struggled to staff all required courses, I offered my services as a temporary full-time instructor, as I had done last spring. The response was that the administration could not give me extra classes, and that they would rather seek to hire more adjuncts to cover the load. I can understand on the basis of the current rules, but it seems to mis-manage available resources.

                  Finally, the system is arranged in such a manner that deans and hiring managers have almost unlimited power over adjunct professors. I have no idea the exact criteria by which colleges decide whether to renew a contract, but other adjuncts warned against making waves, lest I find my own non-renewable. This generates an atmosphere of fear that takes its toll on adjuncts, often pushing them to ethical limits on student success. When speaking with fellow adjuncts on this topic, every conversation devolved into hushed tones with guarded words, as if we each feared someone would overhear and fire us on the spot. 

At one point, I made the mistake of lashing out at the governing board as a whole. I regret that action completely—it was unprofessional and beyond embarrassing—but I was astounded by the outpouring of sympathy. A number of adjuncts I had never met reached out to say that, yes, they had likewise suffered these same indignities, often for years. Several recommended I do anything else with my life, to pursue a living that, at the very least, would preserve my human dignity. After maintaining two further semesters, I cannot agree with that advice more strongly, and have resolved to follow it.

In summation, the adjunct system currently abused by community colleges in San Diego—and many other parts of this nation—must be massively overhauled. Adjunct professors make sense in small doses, but should not comprise the vast majority of a working college. At Southwestern, they account for approximately 70% of instructional staff; nationwide, the average is 75%. There is no one person to blame for this trend, but there are clear reasons it has reached such epidemic proportions.

Adjunct professors represent cheap labor, kept isolated and disenfranchised, and those in power have been able to capitalize spectacularly on the financial returns. The only recourse we adjuncts have—for it is illegal to strike or demonstrate and speaking out remains ill-advised—is the American Federation of Teachers, representatives of which operate within each college in the county. However, as this group considers helping adjuncts gain housing assistance and food stamps as major successes, one wonders about their effectiveness.

I am not calling for the abolition of adjunct professors in totality, nor am I demanding the administrators return their salaries.

What I am requesting is a return to dignity and sanity. This system is broken and riddled with abuse, and it is destroying lives. Further, when professors are so acutely focused on mere survival, they give little thought to their students, and institutional loyalty vanishes. Studies have shown that, on average, adjunct professors are far less effective than full-time ones and suffer enormous turnover rates. The reasons previously enumerated represent symptoms that can explain these findings. Why would an institution want to perpetuate this system?

Overhauling need not occur overnight, as small changes can make enormous differences. For example, strengthening the Union presence would make adjunct voices more heard; removing limits on teaching hours would simply adjunct lives and decrease stress; limiting salary increases for high-level administrators would free money to keep adjuncts and dis-incentivize their hiring in the first place; and introducing some sort of non-tenure-track faculty role would keep costs reasonable while eliminating the worst of these excesses. Any of these solutions would greatly improve this situation and could be adopted rather easily, given the political will.

Implementing changes doesn’t just make sense ethically: It can produce real, tangible returns for the colleges in the form of better instructors, graduates, and schools in general. I implore San Diego County to lead this charge. Return dignity to your staff, decent education to your students, and sanity and humanity to all.

[name withheld by request]