YOUR PROFESSOR IS ON FOOD STAMPS

The story of so many of our lives in adjunct hell.

Professor on Foodstamps

Each semester when I lecture on class inequity, I always want to pull out my EBT card and WIC folder and SHOW the young and optimistic students that the “American Dream” is a lie.  I don’t. I don’t because I want them to think that maybe, just maybe they CAN make it. That they can move from their community college seats into the dream worlds they imagine this college education will help them achieve. That, and I am ashamed. I am ashamed that despite a Ph.D. with a 4.0 GPA, a decade of teaching, publications (including a book), excellent teaching evaluations and a passion for teaching that few can match, I am living in poverty.  I survive term to term, worried about how to house and feed my children.

I am an adjunct professor supporting my three daughters on meager, unsteady pay.  My pay is so meager that I get food stamps and WIC.  This is just to survive;  to survive.  Despite knowing all that I know about class inequality, I am deeply ashamed!

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