"The carotid artery was what made me change careers."
The title of this entry is a quote from Dr. Cesar Maldonado, the chancellor of Houston Community College, who uttered it when explaining to the new full-time faculty why he chose to become an engineer rather than a veterinarian. A preserved cat's circulatory system apparently pushed him so far that he couldn't continue to follow his original career path.
For me, the catalyst might be last week. Allow me to offer some perspective as I explain.
I have had no classes this past week, or indeed since last August 11, when my morning class met for the last time. All of the students were satisfied with their grades, so they were only sad about not knowing when or even if we would see other again and the bag of chocolates I gave them as prizes for answering trivia questions being empty. We took a couple of class photos, giving me a chance to test the timer on my iPhone's camera while we struck both serious and silly poses, though the picture quality probably would have been better if I hadn't decided to position the class directly below a window on a sunny day.
Starting the day after class ended, I had at least one meeting or event to attend every single weekday for the next eight days: a department planning and training session, full-time and part-time faculty meetings, a faculty convocation, an information session, a full-time faculty orientation session, and an orientation session for new students in my department (with another one scheduled for this coming Monday). Shortly before this, I had also received news that I would be taken on as a temporary full-time Intensive English instructor through December. My program director had previously cautioned me against missing any meeting, no matter how seemingly inconsequential or irrelevant, while working as a full-time faculty member, so I did my due diligence and registered to attend every event at times when I was certain that there would be no overlap.
Come Thursday, I attended the orientation session for full-time faculty, thinking that it would be identical to the one I attended when I became a temporary full-timer in March. It was not - the presenters shared a lot of helpful information with us, but none of it had anything to do with our pay or benefits. I became concerned that I'd missed something, so I checked the e-mail to which HR had sent my full-time employment offer (which was not my work e-mail) and reread the attachments. I'd already signed and returned two of them, but the third one stipulated that I would need to attend a full-time orientation session for most of the day on Tuesday.
Stop. Seethe. Swear profusely.
I immediately contacted HR to explain the situation, hoping that I hadn't just screwed myself out of full-time employment. HR informed me that I still needed to attend the meeting to complete my transition, but the next available meeting would take place on Monday. Unfortunately, this conflicted with the new student orientation I'd been told to lead that day, but I figured it'd be easier for me to plead my case to the higher-ups in my department than it would be to plead my case to HR, with whom I've only had two encounters in the past two years. I agreed to attend this meeting and e-mailed my program manager, apologizing profusely and explaining that I had to attend this meeting if I wanted to keep my (new and improved) job.
Draw circle. Bang head in it repeatedly. Stop. Pray.
Come Friday, I showed up for the new student orientation and was immediately beset with questions from my program manager, who wanted to know why I didn't attend Tuesday's meeting. I explained that the e-mail mentioning it was sent to an e-mail address I rarely check (which was true) and that it would have been very difficult for me to attend both that meeting and the one I'd committed to attending on Tuesday evening (which could have been true, depending on when the new employee orientation ended and how bad traffic was when it did), and delivered the same explanation to the program director and an instructional supervisor I spoke with later. Thankfully, my program manager said he could handle the orientation on Monday and didn't seem to be frustrated about it, though the tone of my program director's e-mail hinted at greater displeasure.
Unfortunately, no matter how hard I try to justify or rectify this situation, I have to accept that it was my own fault. Having seven different meetings and events to attend in one week was a little much for me to keep track of - especially when I was operating under the assumption that I needed a damn good reason for missing even one of them - and I happened to miss the one that was most crucial to my career at HCC continuing along its current trajectory. If I hadn't had to worry about driving all around Houston and Stafford while constantly checking two different e-mail accounts for updates and being told to sign and return documents I was sent at 4:00 in the afternoon before 8:00 the following morning, I might have had an easier time keeping everything straight in my head. My inability to do so is going to make me look disorganized and irresponsible in my supervisors' eyes, and I can only hope that they've seen enough things they like about me in the last two years that they won't consider this to be a sign of gross ineptitude. Everything seems to be under control at the moment, but I can't shake the feeling that this will come back to haunt me in the future.
I'm really starting to look forward to being back in the classroom. Life is so much simpler there.
For me, the catalyst might be last week. Allow me to offer some perspective as I explain.
I have had no classes this past week, or indeed since last August 11, when my morning class met for the last time. All of the students were satisfied with their grades, so they were only sad about not knowing when or even if we would see other again and the bag of chocolates I gave them as prizes for answering trivia questions being empty. We took a couple of class photos, giving me a chance to test the timer on my iPhone's camera while we struck both serious and silly poses, though the picture quality probably would have been better if I hadn't decided to position the class directly below a window on a sunny day.
Starting the day after class ended, I had at least one meeting or event to attend every single weekday for the next eight days: a department planning and training session, full-time and part-time faculty meetings, a faculty convocation, an information session, a full-time faculty orientation session, and an orientation session for new students in my department (with another one scheduled for this coming Monday). Shortly before this, I had also received news that I would be taken on as a temporary full-time Intensive English instructor through December. My program director had previously cautioned me against missing any meeting, no matter how seemingly inconsequential or irrelevant, while working as a full-time faculty member, so I did my due diligence and registered to attend every event at times when I was certain that there would be no overlap.
Come Thursday, I attended the orientation session for full-time faculty, thinking that it would be identical to the one I attended when I became a temporary full-timer in March. It was not - the presenters shared a lot of helpful information with us, but none of it had anything to do with our pay or benefits. I became concerned that I'd missed something, so I checked the e-mail to which HR had sent my full-time employment offer (which was not my work e-mail) and reread the attachments. I'd already signed and returned two of them, but the third one stipulated that I would need to attend a full-time orientation session for most of the day on Tuesday.
Stop. Seethe. Swear profusely.
I immediately contacted HR to explain the situation, hoping that I hadn't just screwed myself out of full-time employment. HR informed me that I still needed to attend the meeting to complete my transition, but the next available meeting would take place on Monday. Unfortunately, this conflicted with the new student orientation I'd been told to lead that day, but I figured it'd be easier for me to plead my case to the higher-ups in my department than it would be to plead my case to HR, with whom I've only had two encounters in the past two years. I agreed to attend this meeting and e-mailed my program manager, apologizing profusely and explaining that I had to attend this meeting if I wanted to keep my (new and improved) job.
Draw circle. Bang head in it repeatedly. Stop. Pray.
Come Friday, I showed up for the new student orientation and was immediately beset with questions from my program manager, who wanted to know why I didn't attend Tuesday's meeting. I explained that the e-mail mentioning it was sent to an e-mail address I rarely check (which was true) and that it would have been very difficult for me to attend both that meeting and the one I'd committed to attending on Tuesday evening (which could have been true, depending on when the new employee orientation ended and how bad traffic was when it did), and delivered the same explanation to the program director and an instructional supervisor I spoke with later. Thankfully, my program manager said he could handle the orientation on Monday and didn't seem to be frustrated about it, though the tone of my program director's e-mail hinted at greater displeasure.
Unfortunately, no matter how hard I try to justify or rectify this situation, I have to accept that it was my own fault. Having seven different meetings and events to attend in one week was a little much for me to keep track of - especially when I was operating under the assumption that I needed a damn good reason for missing even one of them - and I happened to miss the one that was most crucial to my career at HCC continuing along its current trajectory. If I hadn't had to worry about driving all around Houston and Stafford while constantly checking two different e-mail accounts for updates and being told to sign and return documents I was sent at 4:00 in the afternoon before 8:00 the following morning, I might have had an easier time keeping everything straight in my head. My inability to do so is going to make me look disorganized and irresponsible in my supervisors' eyes, and I can only hope that they've seen enough things they like about me in the last two years that they won't consider this to be a sign of gross ineptitude. Everything seems to be under control at the moment, but I can't shake the feeling that this will come back to haunt me in the future.
I'm really starting to look forward to being back in the classroom. Life is so much simpler there.